


The power of imagination

by typicallyatypical



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bookstores, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Graduate School, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicallyatypical/pseuds/typicallyatypical
Summary: “Well, well, well, as I live and breathe. Is that an Eddie Spaghetti I see?” Richie practically sang, standing up with the stack of books now perched precariously in his hands.Eddie stood there blinking for a second, taking in the reality of the situation. Before his mind had a chance to catch up, he found a “Don’t call me that,” escape from his lips.[aka a fic where Eddie is a grad student and Richie was an undergrad who worked in the same research lab as him. At the time it would have been against school policy for them to date. But, two months after Richie graduates, they run into each other in a bookstore]





	1. Welcome to the real world

**Author's Note:**

> Combining my two favorite things: bookstores and reddie. This is my first time posting so I have no idea what I'm doing. Lol but I hope you guys like it anyways! More chapters will be out soon :)

No one knows when their life is about to change forever. That’s just not how life works. Things happen. They come out of nowhere, catching us off-guard and sending our lives spiraling in a different direction. You never see it coming. Well, at least Eddie Kaspbrak certainly didn’t. He had just been mulling around his favorite bookstore like he always did. Picking up books and reading through a few pages to get a feel for the author’s writing style. Eddie had always been an avid reader. Growing up his mother had been extremely controlling, never letting him go outside and play with friends, fearing that he would get hurt, or worse, realize he didn’t need her anymore. So Eddie learned that if he couldn’t go out in the real world, he could live in fictional ones. He could fight battles and climb mountains, fall in love and make friends, all without ever leaving the confines of his own bedroom. 

Eddie had been told that he was delicate. That he couldn’t play like the other kids could. At first Eddie hated it. He hated feeling weak. Hated feeling insufficient. But when he read, oh how things were different when he read. He was strong and fearless just like the characters he read about. Nothing could hurt him. Reading allowed him to live thousands of lives all within the four walls of his bedroom. 

For a long time Eddie accepted that he was fragile. Sure, at first he was upset when he would watch the other kids riding their bikes around in the glimmering summer sun. Or when he would see his classmates laughing and running around together at recess, all while he said by himself, afraid of getting dirty or injured. But he had his books, and that made it all a lot more bearable. 

He actually had one friend named Mike, whom he had met at the library one day when he was in middle school. Mike was homeschooled and Eddie wasn’t allowed to have friends over, so they didn’t see each other all that often, but whenever they were both at the library they made a point of sitting next to each other, reading in comfortable silence. They spoke often, discussing school and the books they were reading, talking about characters they related to; characters they wished they were more like. As the years passed, the library became their safe haven. A place where they could go and not be the friendless losers they felt like. But they weren’t friendless. They had each other, and they had their books. 

For a long time Eddie accepted his life that way. Sure, he wasn’t strong and adventurous like the heroes he read about, but that was because he was fragile. He was born that way and there was no point in wishing things were any different. So he didn’t. But then one day during his senior year of high school he learned the truth. His mother had been feeding him lies and fake medicine by the spoon full for years. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t dirty. He was Eddie fucking Kaspbrak and he could be anything he wanted to be. It was like he had been living his whole life with a secret identity, but he didn’t even know it. Like he had been Superman this entire time but his mother had convinced him that he was only Clark Kent. Eddie didn’t even know who he was at all anymore. But for one in his life, he felt strong enough to find out. 

That was the day he moved out. When he got home from the pharmacy, after his whole world had been shattered into a million pieces, he looked his mother straight in the eyes and told her in a calm yet icy voice, “I know everything. I know about the lies—the gazeebos. Mr. Keene told me everything. I don’t trust you anymore and I don’t know if I ever will again. You stole my life from me. Convinced me that I can’t do anything. But you’re wrong. You don’t know the first thing about me. But I’m an adult now. So I’m taking my things and I’m going to stay with Mike. Do not try to contact me. I will contact if and when I feel ready,” 

And with that, Eddie turned on his heels and marched up the stairs, leaving his mother standing in stunned silence. 

Eddie thought back on that day as he stood in the bookstore, a copy of Eva Luna in his hands. He had always loved that book, admiring the way Eva Luna escaped her harsh reality through storytelling. It had been six years since Eddie learned about his mother. Six years since he moved out. So much had changed and yet sometimes he still felt like so many things were the same. He was still so scared of everything. He was afraid of meeting new people, doing new things, getting hurt—both physically and emotionally. He really hated how scared he was, it was like his mother was still controlling him even after all of these years. But then he would remember how much things had changed. He had a group of friends that he met in college, which he had paid for with a full-ride scholarship by the way. He had come to terms with his sexuality. He had an apartment which he shared with his friends Mike and Bill. He had gotten a bachelor’s degree in psychology (which was how he had learned about Munchausen by proxy) and was now working to get his PhD. 

He was smiling to himself, thinking about how far he’d come and how grateful he was for his friends, when he heard a loud crash followed by a “FUCK.” And that was it. That was the moment. The moment he never could’ve seen coming. Eddie turned towards the sound, only to find a mop of black curls right in front of him, with their owner crouched on the floor picking up a pile of books that must’ve been knocked over.

He was about to turn around to continue his browsing when the boy with the curls suddenly looked up. Eddie froze, heart racing and blood pounding in his ears. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but it was like his entire brain had short-circuited. He must’ve had an aneurysm that sent him in a coma because there was no way that those black curls and freckled skin were there. There was no way those unforgettable brown eyes were staring at him from behind a pair of thick black glasses. Because there was no way the Richie Tozier was crouching right there in front of him. Eddie had been dreaming of that beautiful freckled face for years, and now that it was here, a mischievous smirk plastered across it, he couldn’t believe it was real. 

“Well, well, well, as I live and breathe. Is that an Eddie Spaghetti I see?” Richie practically sang, standing up with the stack of books now perched precariously in his hands.

Eddie stood there blinking for a second, taking in the reality of the situation. Before his mind had a chance to catch up, he found a “Don’t call me that,” escape from his lips. 

A wide smile broke across Richie’s face, “Wow. Not even a hello, Richie? Good to see you, Richie? It’s been so long, Richie? That’s fucking cold, Eds,”

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “I was surprised to see you,”

Richie opened his mouth to respond, but Eddie interrupted him before he even got the chance, saying, “And I thought I told you not to call me that either, asshole,”

“Asshole? I see how it is. I graduate and suddenly the kid gloves come off and the big boy words come out,”

“Yep. Welcome to the real world. It sucks, you’re going to love it,”

Richie burst out laughing, hands falling to his knees as he drew the attention of nearby readers, “Did you just,” Richie paused to giggle some more as he stood back up, “Quote “Friends” at me?” 

“I know what I said,” Eddie deadpanned.

“Jesus Christ, kid. You’re even cuter than I remembered,” 

A blush bloomed across Eddie’s cheeks and he quickly stared down at the floor to hide it. He didn’t wanted Richie to know how much he loved hearing those words come out of his mouth.

“I’m not a kid. I’m older than you,” Eddie muttered, more to himself than to Richie.

“Technically, sure. But I’m wayyyy more experienced than you. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you just ask your mo-”

“Oh god, please don’t finish the sentence,”

“Why, does hearing about all of my satisfied lovers make you jealous, Eds? You know not even Mrs. K compares to you,” Richie said with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“The only thing I’m jealous of is that they’re not being harassed by you right now,”

“Harassed? Please, you know you love it”

“Love it when you shut up? Yeah, I do love that,” Eddie said, with no real bite to the words. 

Truthfully, he could listen to Richie talk all day. Not that he’d ever admit that to him. Richie had been an undergraduate that did research in the same psych lab as Eddie the past 2 years, and Eddie had the most embarrassingly huge crush on him the entire time. But he was a grad student and Richie was an undergrad, and he knew anything happening between them would’ve been against university policy. So Eddie resorted to pining hopelessly, and to be completely honest, he kind of preferred it that way. Eddie kind of liked the fact that he couldn’t make a move, because it left out any chance for rejection. He could live in this fantasy world where he could pretend that every little thing that Richie did meant something more. 

“How is everyone in the lab doing? Did Stan cry when I left?” Richie asked, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts.

“Oh yeah, he was really torn up about it. Talks about how much he misses you every day,” Eddie muttered sarcastically with an eye roll. 

Richie beamed, that shit eating grin still plastered across his face. _Does he ever stop smiling? Doesn’t his stupid, perfect face ever get tired?_

“Aww, do you miss me too, Eds? I know it must be hard not getting to listen to my hilarious jokes or look at my sexy body every day. I can send you some photos of me,” Richie winked, “If you need something to look at late at night. I’m always happy to help out a friend in need,”

Blood rushed to Eddie’s face and he could feel his cheeks burning. His dick twitched at the thought of Richie sending him suggestive photos and he quickly pushed away the thought, the blush now spreading to his chest. 

Eddie cleared his throat, hoping Richie hadn’t notice his internal struggle, “I would only need to look at photos of you if I were testing my gag reflex,”

A devious sparkle appeared in Richie’s eye and Eddie realized in horror what he had just said.

“I can think of a much more fun way to test out your gag reflex,”

“You’re insufferable,”

“And you’re cute,”

“Oh my god, do you ever stop?”

“Nope. I can go alllllll night long,” Richie said, drawing out his words. 

At this point it felt like the blush on Eddie’s face was just a permanent part it, and he tried not to make eye contact with the taller boy, fearing that he would see just how much of an effect he had on him. As much he loved hearing Richie flirt with him and call him cute, he knew none of it was real. He thought back on the years they spent working together. All the days he spent pretending that Richie was secretly in love with him too, and that all his flirty jokes and teasing were the result of affection. Eddie liked this fantasy world. It was liked the ones he lived in within the books he read growing up. He could imagine scenarios where he would act on his feelings. Where he would be bold and brave, and tell Richie how he felt. In his mind, he was strong like the characters in his books. But in reality, he was just Eddie. The boy with fake asthma who had more books than friends. The boy who was afraid of everything, even his own feelings. So Eddie had resided to living in his fantasy world, never having to actually face his feelings for Richie. He bickered with him, joked with him, and through the years they actually had become pretty close. But never really friends, because you know, school policy.

Eddie was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice that Richie had stopped talking. He did his best to regain his composure, and when he finally looked up to meet Richie’s eyes, the other boy was looking at him with a soft smile on his face. This time Richie was the one to avert his gaze. Eddie wanted to think the look on Richie’s face meant something, but he knew better than to get his hopes up like that. 

“So what’re you,” Eddie began to say at the same time that a soft “Hey, Eds,” left Richie’s mouth. 

“You go first,” they both proceeded to say at the exact same time. Again. 

Richie chuckled and let a hand comb through his hair almost nervously, “Look, I…” Richie paused, seemingly at loss for words for what was probably the first time in his life. 

Eddie could feel his heart pound in his chest, and he willed it to stop, convinced that everyone in the store could hear it.

“I was going to see,” Richie began, his fingertips drumming on the stack of books still in his hands, “I just wanted to, um,”

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Eddie jumped, the sudden beeping from Richie’s watch startling him more than he’d like to admit. It sounded exactly like the alarm he had growing up.

“Shit,” Richie hissed, “I, uh, Fuck. I’ve got to go. Shit. Um, I’ll see you around. Bye,” the words came tumbling out of Richie’s mouth as he turned on his heel and practically ran away. 

Eddie felt his heart sink in his chest as he watched Richie leave, his curls bobbing with each step before he moved behind a bookcase and out of sight. He told himself never to get his hopes up about Richie. He swore he would never do it again, not after the last time. But here he was, heart aching and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

When Richie graduated two months ago, Eddie figured that would be the last he saw of him. A part of him hoped that Richie would come find Eddie on graduation day and tell him that he had been in love with him this whole time. That he had just been waiting for the day when they were allowed to be together. But as the days passed, Eddie accepted the fact that it had all been in his head. He had blurred fantasy with reality. The jokes, the nicknames, the winks, and the flirting were all just part of who Richie was. Eddie had thought Richie directed his attention to him more than the others in their lab, but perhaps that was all in his head too. 

Richie was perfect. He was absolutely gorgeous. He was well above six feet, with a slim yet toned build, and his pale face was adorned with adorable freckles. His brown eyes were accented by his thick black glasses, and he had these wild black curls that would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Richie they were perfect. Eddie felt so inadequate in comparison, with his short stature, soft brown curls, and round baby face. He was cute, sure, but he was just small and delicate. Not handsome. Not like Richie. And it wasn’t just that Richie was stunning. He was fiercely intelligent, and full of life and laughter. He talked non-stop and had absolutely no filter, but Eddie kind of loved it. He loved the way they could bicker back and forth with no real bite to it. He loved the freedom he felt talking to Richie, like he could say anything and Richie wouldn’t judge him. Richie made every day so much brighter. 

Richie was exactly the kind of person Eddie had always dreamed of being. He was outgoing, and bold, beautiful, and brave. It was like nothing scared him. He said whatever was on his mind without fear of repercussions, and he always went after what he wanted. He was so fun and so lively. Everyone loved him. It was the best and worst thing about him, because it meant that Richie could have anyone he wanted. He didn’t need Eddie. 

Eddie suddenly felt worn out. He had gone through the whole gamut of emotions in a matter of minutes, and it was incredibly draining. Eddie put the copy of Eva Luna that he was holding back on the shelf, but when he turned around to head towards the door, he found himself colliding with a large figure. 

“Richie,” Eddie breathe, shocked to find the boy right there in front of him, yet again.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Richie said with wide eyes, “I didn’t expect you to turn around so suddenly,”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, Rich,” the nickname slipping out before Eddie had a chance to stop it. “I thought you left?” the sentence came out as a cross between a question and a statement.

“I uh, yeah, I did. But, um, I just wanted to give you this book. I thought maybe you’d like it,” Richie paused, hands fidgeting nervously while holding an old book with a worn green cover, and his eyes pointed to the ground.

“Oh, thanks. That’s nice of you,”

“Uh, yeah. Anyways, here you go,” Richie practically shoved the book in Eddie’s hands before he started to back away. His eyes flickered up to meet Eddie’s, and a soft smile passed across his face. “I’ll see you around. I hope,”

Richie’s last words came out so low and hushed that Eddie almost missed them. Eddie started to say a goodbye, but Richie was already gone. Eddie shook his head, trying to process what had just happened. Richie had been acting so not-Richie-like. In the two years Eddie had known him, he had never seen Richie look nervous or flustered. Suddenly his stomach dropped and his blood ran cold. What if Richie noticed Eddie blushing and finally figured it out? What if he realized Eddie liked him and was so disgusted that he fled as quickly as he could? Eddie felt like he was going to throw up. Stomach churning, and body frozen in place, Eddie forgot all about the faded green book in his hands. 

He stood there for what felt like a century, but was probably only a couple minutes, before he remembered the book. Nervously, Eddie glanced down to see what it was. Eddie read the title, frowning in confusion. Charlotte’s Web.

_What the fuck?_ Eddie had no idea why on earth Richie felt that he needed to read this book. In fact, Eddie was fairly certain every kid to ever make it through elementary school had read  Charlotte’s Web. A little white piece of paper, sticking out of the cover of the book caught Eddie’s eye. He grabbed the corner of the paper and held it out in front of him. On it, scribbled in black ink and messy hand writing, was a note.

_I really miss seeing you every day_.  
- _Richie_

Beneath his name was a phone number.


	2. A nervous wreck on crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You ran into Richie?” Mike practically shouted. “Richie? The Richie? The guy you always pretend you hate even though you’ve literally been obsessed with him for years?” He had a grin plastered across his face that was so wide Eddie wondered how his face didn’t split in half. “That Richie?”
> 
> “Yes, Mike. That Richie,” Eddie said with a sigh. He could already tell they weren’t going to keep their promise not to get involved—it’s just who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the kind words--it really motivated me to get this chapter out as soon as possible. Upcoming in chapter 3: lots of Richie/Eddie interaction, I promise!

Tick. Tick. Tick.

To say Eddie was anxious would have been the understatement of the century. He was somewhere more in the realm of a nervous wreck on crack. He had been sitting around, staring at his phone for god knows how long and he had no intentions of getting up anytime soon. It had been a few hours since Richie had given him his number, and Eddie had yet to text him. He wanted to, desperately, but all those years of encouraging his overactive imagination were getting the best of him. He kept imagining every possible outcome, and while some were good and ended with Eddie and Richie happily married with 2 dogs, the negative outcomes seemed to be winning. At the moment, all he could think about was the fact that there was no actual guarantee that the note had any romantic intentions. Richie very well could have just meant that he missed his friendship with Eddie and had only given him his number so that they could make plans to hangout, as friends. So he continued to keep sitting there, listening to the clock tick.

An hour later, Eddie hadn’t moved an inch. He had finally resolved that even if Richie only had friendly intentions, it would still be nice to start spending time with him outside of the lab. But now he had the dreaded of task of figuring out what to say. Should he start things off a little flirty in the off-chance that Richie was interested in him? Or should he just play it safe and keep things friendly? He must’ve drafted a hundred different messages, ranging from a simple _hey_ to _Hi so you’re literally perfect for the love of God please date me_. It wasn’t until the front door opened, announcing Mike and Bill’s return, that Eddie was brought back to reality.

“Please tell me you haven’t been sitting there the entire time we’ve been gone,” Mike sighed, setting several bags of groceries down on the kitchen counter. The three of them had a tradition of spending Saturday afternoons grocery shopping together, but Eddie had bailed so that he could deal with his texting crisis in peace. He hadn’t told Mike and Bill what had happened at the bookstore, but they could tell something was up considering Eddie never passed up on grocery shopping. He loved lecturing the guys about the importance of eating healthy, telling them horror stories about processed food (like how Cheetos are made in the same way as Styrofoam peanuts), and about the perils of pesticide. As much as Mike and Bill loved to complain about Eddie’s supermarket frenzies, they thought it was kind of hilarious. Plus, 4 years of living with Eddie had definitely helped them lose the freshman fifteen. 

“S-so are you going to t-t-tell us why you skipped out o-on shopping today?” Bill asked as he walked into the living room. He took a seat in the recliner near Eddie, with his chin resting in his hand and an eyebrow quirked as if to say _should we be concerned_?

“You guys are going to make fun of me if I tell you,” Eddie moaned, his head flopping down to hide his face in his hands.

A single laugh escaped Bill’s lips. “N-no we’re not,” 

Eddie looked up, his eyes glancing between Mike and Bill before narrowing. “You’re right. You’ll just try to do something about my problem, and will come up with some ridiculous plan that will end up blowing up in my face and making things a thousand times worse. And then I’ll have no choice but to murder the both of you.”

A chuckle echoed from the kitchen, where Mike was still putting groceries away. “The man’s got a point.”

“Of course I do. So I’m going to stick to my plan of suffering in silence, thank you very much,” Eddie said with a huff. He took his phone back out and resumed his drafting of potential message to Richie. 

Several minutes passed before Bill let out a frustrated snort. “So y-you’re seriously not going to t-tell us what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong Bill, okay? I had a weird day and I’m just trying to wrap my head around it.” 

“Bull-s-shit. You said you had a p-problem that we would make worse. So t-that means you have a problem.”

Eddie knew he had no way of getting out of this.

“Ugh, fine,” Eddie groaned. “But you have to promise not to get involved.”

“We p-promise,” Bill said earnestly. His blue eyes shone with tenderness as he reached out to rest a hand on Eddie’s arm. 

Eddie smiled up at Bill, warmed by his reassuring touch. “So you guys know how I love that old bookstore over on Neibolt street, right? Well, I went there this morning and while I was looking around I heard someone knock over a stack of books. Totally not a big deal or anything until I realized that I knew the person,” Eddie paused, letting the anticipation build, because honestly, he loved being extra. He waited a few more seconds, as Bill’s eyes bored holes in his head and he gestured with his hands as if to say go on. “It was Richie.”

The second Eddie said Richie’s name, there was the thud of a cabinet being slammed shut immediately followed by the sight of Mike bursting into the living room, a can on peas still clutched in his hands. 

“You ran into Richie?” Mike practically shouted. “Richie? The Richie? The guy you always pretend you hate even though you’ve been literally obsessed with him for years?” He had a grin plastered across his face that was so wide Eddie wondered how his face didn’t split in half. “That Richie?”

“Yes, Mike. That Richie,” Eddie said with a sigh. He could already tell they weren’t going to keep their promise not to get involved—it’s just who they were. And as much as Eddie hated their constant interference, it was kind of nice knowing his friends cared enough to get involved in his personal life. Though, it’d be a lot nicer if their meddling were at least a little more successful in its execution. 

“This is the greatest news ever.” The smile on Mike’s face was growing even wider, if that was even possible.

“Well?” Bill asked eagerly. “W-what happened?”

Eddie hesitated, twiddling his fingers nervously. Realistically, he knew he was making this into a bigger deal than it should be. He had run into Richie, they talked for a couple minutes, and Richie gave him his number. That was it. Sure, Richie had been acting strange, but honestly when wasn’t he? Acting outside the bounds of normal human behavior was Richie’s forte. He either had no concept of social norms or just blatantly chose to disregard them. Either way, it was frustrating as hell because it made it impossible to interpret his behavior. But it was also kind of endearing. God, Eddie was fucking smitten. He could find a way to turn every single one of Richie’s weird quirks into something cute and endearing. But maybe that’s just because his eccentricities were what made Richie, Richie. He wouldn’t be the same smart, funny, and impossibly infuriating man that Eddie had grown to know and love without them. He wasn’t made to be ordinary. Eddie wasn’t sure how long he had been lost in thought, but apparently it had been too long because both Mike and Bill were staring at him with puzzled expressions. 

“Okay, seriously. W-what happened?” Bill’s eyes suddenly widened, “Did you guys have sex or s-something?”

“Oh my god, Bill, no!” Eddie shrieked. “We talked. Just talked. And it was only for like two minutes, anyways. He basically just harassed me and made a couple of sex jokes, and that was pretty much it.” Eddie hesitated, unsure if he should tell them the rest or not. 

Mike, noticing Eddie’s hesitation, raised an eyebrow. “Was that really it, Eddie? Cause it seems to me like you have something you want to add.” 

Deciding that it would be easier to just show them what happened rather than explain it, Eddie reached over and picked up the copy of Charlotte’s Web that Richie had handed him. He knew Richie hadn’t actually intended on him buying it, but the sappy romantic part of Eddie wanted to save it as a sort of memento. That way if things did work out how Eddie wanted them to, and he really hoped they did, he would be able to look at that book and remember the day it all began. Eddie pulled out the note that was still resting in the front cover and placed it in Bill’s palm. 

Mike immediately moved over to the recliner, setting the can of peas on the ground and sitting on the armrest so that he could read the note over Bill’s shoulder. The two sat in complete silence, reading, before finally looking up at Eddie with matching grins on their faces. 

“I fail to see where the problem is,” Mike said, the smile evident in his voice. 

“Y-yeah. This is like the opposite of a p-problem,” Bill smirked.

“Maybe it’s not for you guys, but I’m not fucking like you, okay? I can’t just text someone I like and ask them out like it’s no big deal. It is a big deal. It’s a fucking huge deal!” Eddie shrieked. If Eddie had been a nervous wreck on crack before, he had no idea what level of anxiety he was at now. All of his worries suddenly began to tumble out of his mouth in an avalanche. “I have no idea what to do or what to say? I don’t even know that he’s interested. What if he just meant he missed me as a friend and then I go and make a move and completely humiliate myself? What if he’s not even gay and I go and make things super uncomfortable and weird and then he can’t even be around me anymore because he’s totally creeped out by me and is afraid I’ll hit on him and then I’ll have to stop going to that bookstore anymore because apparently he goes there too and I can never show my face in this town anymore oh god I’m going to have to move and-” Eddie let out a frantic gasp, before he started to hyperventilate. His mind screamed at him to calm down, but he couldn’t stop his breaths from coming in short, quick gasps, leaving his lungs burning.

Bill hopped off of the recliner and raced to Eddie’s bedroom, as Mike moved to join him on the couch. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down Eddie’s back and whispered comforting words. Mike’s demeanor was calm and steady, but he eyes revealed the truth—he was terrified. It had been a long time since Eddie’d had an anxiety attack this bad, and while Mike and Bill had both dealt with them many times, it still scared the shit out of them. They loved Eddie to death, and truthfully, they had no idea what was the best course of action in situations like these. 

A couple second later Bill came rushing back into the room, an inhaler in hand. He knelt down on the ground in front of Eddie, and placed the device in his hands. They all knew that Eddie’s asthma was fake, but the scars of his childhood ran deep and his inhaler was still the most sure-fire way to stop his anxiety attacks. Eddie took a few frantic puffs before feeling his breathing begin to slow. He hated the way his inhaler was able to do that. Hated the way it, and by extension his mother, had more control over him than his own mind did. No matter how much he grew and changed, she still had power over him. 

The three boys sat in the living room, trying their best to slow their beating hearts. Eddie felt guilty for putting them through that. They didn’t deserve to be affected so much by his childhood trauma. They had done so much for him, and here he was putting them through hell time and time again. He honestly didn’t understand why they put up with all of his drama, but whatever the reason, Eddie was grateful for it. He honestly hit the jackpot when it came to friends. 

After several minutes, Eddie finally broke the silence. “Thanks, guys,” he rasped, his throat a little sore. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Tears threatened to escape the corners of his eyes. 

Mike smiled at Eddie, “We’re just glad you’re okay, man,” 

“We l-love you,” Bill said as he sat down on the couch next to Eddie.

Tears now flooded Eddie’s eyes as both Mike and Bill wrapped their arms around him, the three of them buried in a warm embrace.

“We should go out,” Eddie blurted, causing both boys to turn to Eddie with bewildered expressions. “I just really need to get my mind off of things. Please?” Eddie pleaded. He couldn’t take another second of sitting around, worrying. He needed to go out, have a few drinks, and forget all about Richie.

“You know what, maybe you’re right. I think we could all use a drink right now,” Mike conceded. 

“Why d-don’t we invite B-ben,” Bill said, pulling out his phone and texting him before Mike or Eddie even had a chance to respond. Not that they ever would’ve said no. Ben had roomed with Bill in the dorms freshman year of college, and since Eddie and Mike had lived across the hall from them, they’d all been friends for years. Eddie adored Ben. He was quite honestly the purest human being Eddie had ever met in his entire life. Don’t get him wrong, Mike and Bill were both incredibly kind, but Ben had this overall sweetness to him that made him into a real life teddy bear. 

“Where do you guys want to go?” Mike asked, lifting himself off the couch and heading in the direction of his room.

“Well, Stan from my lab bartends at this place downtown. He said he’d give me a free drink if I ever came in while he was working. Want to go check it out?” Despite being a grad student, Stan worked as a bartender on the weekends in an attempt to make some extra cash. He was a starving grad student after all. He’d told Eddie about the bar he worked in a few months ago, and Eddie had been feeling kind of guilty about never stopping by. So, he figured tonight was the perfect chance to kill two birds with one stone: finally visit Stan at work and get his drink on. 

“S-sound good to me. From what you’ve said, S-stan sounds like a cool guy,”

“He is. Want to start getting ready now and then head out in half an hour?” Eddie asked, eager to leave soon. 

Mike’s voice echoed out of his bedroom, “Works for me. Tonight’s going to be great. I can feel it,”

 

***

An hour and a half later, Eddie found himself sitting in a booth with Mike, Bill, and Ben. Eddie was grateful they had come to the bar when they did, because they'd managed to snag the last booth. It wasn’t super packed or anything there, but the bar itself had been pretty busy, so Eddie had yet to go up and talk to Stan. Now that Eddie had good company and a few drinks in his system, he was feeling a bit better. Occasionally, he found his thoughts drifting towards Richie, and the fact that he still had yet to text him, but he did his best to push those thoughts away. 

Ben and Mike were engaged in a heated argument about which movie was better, The Incredibles or Monsters Inc., when Eddie decided he should go talk to Stan. The thought of touching the bar, which was covered in the germs of every costumer who had a bought a drink that night, was revolting to Eddie; however, he gulped the last of his drink and marched up there anyways. He wasn’t going to let his irrational fears get the best of him twice in one day. 

Right as Eddie made it to the bar, sending a friendly wave in Stan’s direction, he felt something hard slam into him. Fury bubbled in Eddie’s chest as he felt the very distinct wetness of a spilled drink trickle down his back. _Are you fucking kidding me_? Tonight really just wasn’t Eddie’s night. 

Eddie whipped around to see who was the perpetrator that had spilled their drink all over him. Today had been an overall whirlwind of a shit-show and Eddie had run out of patience. He felt completely drained of emotion, with nothing left behind but rage. Eddie was always a little ball of fury, but tonight he was on a whole other level. He was angry at himself, angry at his weakness, angry at his mother, and he was ready to direct all that anger at something. But, the second Eddie’s eyes met those of the person with the now empty glass, his breath caught in his lungs.

 _Richie_.


	3. I feel scandalized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie leaned against the bar and crossed his arms, a smug look twinkling in his eyes. “You say that a lot, but I’m beginning to think that what you really mean is ‘I love you'. You’re like Westley in _The Princess Bride_. ‘As you wish',” He said, grinning down at Eddie and mimicking Westley’s accent.
> 
> “You do realize that would make you Princess Buttercup, right?”

_Richie_.

Eddie stood there, blinking, taking in the reality of the situation. This was the second time in one day that he’d run into Richie. Fate certainly had a sick sense of humor. Richie stared back at him with a look of absolute shock. For once, Richie wasn’t wearing his trademark black glasses, allowing Eddie to fully appreciate his eyes. They were dark and wide, and held an emotion that Eddie couldn’t quite place.

The two stared at each other in shocked silence for a moment longer before a smile broke across Richie’s face, the strange look in his eyes vanishing. “Twice in one day? You stalking me, Eds?” His smile was quickly replaced by a smirk accompanied by a wink.

Eddie being Eddie responded in the only way he knew how: full of sass. “Dear god, what did I do to deserve being tormented by your presence?” 

“Hey now,” Richie interjected. “You don’t get to be mean to me. Not after blowing me off,” Richie’s voice was lighthearted but his eyes briefly glimmered with hurt. Eddie heart sank. He hadn’t thought about how not responding to the note might have affected Richie. 

“I didn’t blow you off,” Eddie mumbled, eyes locked on Richie’s shirt, pretending to be greatly fascinated by the words _Depeche Mode_. To be honest, Eddie wasn’t pretending—not entirely. He had always been baffled by Richie’s ability to dress in the most haphazard manner yet still look good. Tonight was no different. Richie was wearing a black Depeche Mode t-shirt and ripped black jeans, which wouldn’t have been too strange of a choice if it weren’t accompanied by the most outlandish and incredibly atrocious Hawaiian shirt Eddie had ever seen. Richie looked like a punk 50-year old dad on vacation, and yet somehow he still looked incredible. It was one of life’s great mysteries, Eddie supposed.

“So you didn’t get the note then?” Richie asked, seeming genuinely curious. 

When Eddie looked up and met Richie’s eyes, he felt a sharp pang of guilt. Richie looked almost hopeful. Like he wanted to hear that Eddie hadn’t gotten the note, because that would at least mean that Eddie hadn’t ignored him. For a second, Eddie genuinely considered lying. If he pretended that he didn’t get the note, then at least Richie wouldn’t think he blew him off. Richie wouldn’t be hurt. But Eddie was a terrible liar, always had been, and there was no way Richie wouldn’t find out the truth. Lying would just make things worse.

“I got the note,” Eddie admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know what to say,” His gaze shifted to the ground. Admitting the truth made him feel so exposed and vulnerable.

“You could've said 'wanna fuck?'” Richie suggested. “You’re hot. You’re a perfect specimen of a human being. Really any of those would have worked,” Eddie’s eyes shot up and his whole body froze. _Oh god. He knows. Oh god, oh god, oh god_. The second Richie took in Eddie’s expression he burst out in a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, it was a joke,” Richie managed to get out, his body shaking with laughter. “You should have seen your face. Fucking priceless. I wish I had a picture of it so I could frame it and hang it on my wall.” And with that, the tension in the air seemed to evaporate. 

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he glared up at Richie, whose laughter didn’t seem to be going away any time soon. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Richie smiled. 

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,”

“I can think of some other things you could do to make me feel better,” Richie said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“You’re a pervert,”

“I meant something like buy me a drink,” Richie defended, feigning innocence. “Why, what were you thinking about?” Richie then proceeded to speak using his iconic yet cringe-worthy southern belle voice. “My stars, was Mister Eddie spaghetti referring to,” Richie covered his mouth and stage whispered, “sexual acts?” He let out a gasp and moved his hand to his chest. “I feel scandalized.”

“The only scandal there’s going to be is when I poison your drink,” Eddie shot back.

“Now, now. That’s no way to talk to a lady,”

Eddie glared up at Richie. “If you talk in that stupid voice one more time,” He began, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t be held accountable for my actions,”

“Ooh watcha gonna do, Eds?” Richie sang. He leaned in towards Eddie, so close that Eddie could feel the warmth of his breath on his face and could detect the faint scent of vodka on his lips. With even the slightest tilt of his head, their noses would be touching. A devious smirk materialized on Richie’s face and he moved his lips to Eddie’s ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin. “Are you going to spank me?” 

Eddie shivered, and he could feel the tell-tale warmth of a blush blooming across his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to delve his fingers into the mess of curls atop Richie’s head and slam their lips together. He wanted to kiss and kiss and kiss until he forgot how to breathe. He wanted to get lost in Richie.

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he swallowed thickly and pushed Richie away from him. He muttered an “I hate you” while staring at the ground, praying that Richie couldn’t see the flush that was still displayed on his cheeks, threating to give his true feelings away. 

Richie leaned against the bar and crossed his arms, a smug look twinkling in his eyes. “You say that a lot, but I’m beginning to think that what you really mean is ‘I love you'. You’re like Westley in _The Princess Bride_. ‘As you wish',” He said, grinning down at Eddie and mimicking Westley’s accent.

“You do realize that would make you Princess Buttercup, right?” 

“You’re damn right it would. I’d make an excellent Princess Buttercup,”

“Well, then you’re the ugliest princess I’ve ever seen,” Eddie retorted. 

Richie let out a small gasp. “Now that’s just an outright lie. I’m the prettiest princess there ever was,”

“Pretty ugly, maybe,” 

“You don’t have to keep lying to yourself, Eds,” Richie said, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His voice oozed with faux concern. “I know you think I’m pretty. Besides, I only called you Westley. _You’re_ the one that compared me to Buttercup,” 

Eddie slapped Richie’s hand away and was about to argue that Richie had insinuated it when a voice interrupted their conversation. 

“I see being out of college hasn’t made you any more mature,” 

Both Eddie and Richie’s heads snapped in the direction of the voice. There, standing behind the bar with an exasperated expression, was none other than Stanley Uris. Eddie had never seen him outside of the lab, and it was strange seeing him in anything other than a button-up and khakis. But tonight, Stan was wearing a plain black t-shirt with the bar’s logo on the small front pocket, and had on a simple pair of dark jeans. His golden brown curls, which were normally perfectly styled, were tousled and messy, probably due to running around fixing drinks all night. The disheveled nature of his curls made his angular features all the more noticeable, and while Stan wasn’t really his type, Eddie couldn’t deny that he looked damn good.

A huge smile broke across Richie’s face and he practically shrieked, “STANLEY THE MANLEY!”

Stan simply stared back at Richie, blinking, with a blank expression on his face. “I thought I was free of your torment when you graduated. What did I do to deserve this?”

Eddie snickered. “That’s exactly what I said,”

“Oh yeah, and I’m sure you really meant it,” Stan scoffed.

Eddie’s blood ran still. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded. But Eddie knew exactly what Stan had meant. Was he really that obvious? Did he have _I like Richie_ painted across his forehead? He actually had never even said those words aloud, yet everyone still seemed to know. 

Stan raised his eyebrows. “You know exactly what I mean,”

“Well, I for one don’t know what you mean,” Richie said, placing his elbows on the bar and resting his head in his hands. He looked up at Stan innocently, though a smile was twitching at the corner of his lips. “Do tell,”

Eddie was deciding between hurling his body over the bar to tackle Stan or just dying right then and there when he felt someone’s body press right up against his side. He turned to see what creep was invading his personal space only to find himself face to face with a very familiar pair of blue eyes and auburn hair. 

“Thought you went to go g-get a drink, not a boyfriend,” Bill teased, grinning down at Eddie. Stan let out an amused snort, causing Bill to turn his head towards the sound. The second Bill’s eyes met Stan’s he froze. He seemed to have forgotten that it’s rude to stare, because his eyes were glued to Stan’s face. But Stan didn’t seem to care. In fact, he was staring just as much as Bill was. _Oh I’m going to have so much fun_ , Eddie thought. Stan was going to get a taste of his own medicine, that’s for sure. 

“What’s the matter Stan? Is there something on Bill’s face?” Eddie asked innocently. 

The sound of Eddie’s voice seemed to snap Stan out of his trance, and he turned towards Eddie. His eyes narrowed and he glared at him, seeming to catch on to Eddie’s plan for payback. “You’re the worst,” Stan muttered. 

“Karma’s a bitch,” Eddie beamed. “Though she might not be so bad if you got your dear friend Eddie a free vodka cranberry,”

Stan scowled at Eddie for a moment longer, before whipping around to go get his drink. 

“You’re an evil little thing,” Richie laughed, and Eddie turned to grin at him widely. He _was_ evil. And he loved it. “But you know, you probably should have gotten a drink for me instead. I mean, you did spill mine after all,” Richie stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. 

“Excuse me?” Eddie exclaimed. “ _You_ spilled your drink. On me. So if anything, you owe _me_ a drink,” 

“Hmm,” Richie hummed, looking up and furrowing his brow as if he were trying to remember something. He tapped an index finger to his chin. “I have no recollection of that ever happening,” 

“Well it most certainly did happen. I’ve got the wet shirt to prove it,” At the realization, Eddie cringed visibly. He had been so caught off guard by seeing Richie that he'd completely forgotten about the drink that was all over his back. It had soaked through his shirt and was now beginning to dry on his skin. Whatever Richie had been drinking must've been loaded with sugar, because it was leaving behind some sort of sticky residue. Eddie tried moving his shoulders up and down, but the shirt stayed in place as if it were glued to his body. He was going to kill Richie. All he could focus on now was the sticky wetness that clung to him. It was absolutely disgusting.

“See, but for all Big Bill and I know,” Richie began, gesturing towards Bill who was standing next to them, looking rather amused. “You could have spilled that drink on yourself. And now you’re just using it in an attempt to get me to buy you a drink,” 

“He m-makes a valid point,” Bill laughed, and Eddie turned to glare daggers at him. 

“Seriously Bill? Some strange guy is harassing me and instead of defending me you go and take his side?” 

“Hey!” Richie interjected, “I’m not just some strange guy. I’m the Princess Buttercup to your Westley,” He let out a fake sniffle, “How could you forget everything we’ve been through? How could you forget our love?”

Bill turned to give Eddie a questioning look, seeming to ask if he was actually being bothered and needed help getting Richie to leave him alone. A part of Eddie did want to escape. But, as much as he dreaded having to reveal the identity of the raven-haired “stranger” he was talking to, Eddie didn’t want to stop talking to Richie. He wanted to kick himself for letting Richie have such a hold over him. But truthfully, it’s not like he could stop feeling this way for Richie even if he tried. And he knew this for a fact because he had tried. Many times. But Richie always clawed his way back into Eddie’s heart, and at this point he had accepted that Richie was his kryptonite. He’d fall for those dark brown eyes and stupid jokes every time. Every. Damn. Time. So Eddie gave Bill a smile and a slight shake of his head before turning his attention back to his kryptonite. 

“That joke is getting a little played out, don’t you think?” Eddie said with a sigh. 

“Oh sweet, innocent Eddie Spaghetti. I’m just getting started,”

The second the nickname left Richie’s mouth Bill whipped his head towards Eddie, his eyes widening. Bill had heard that nickname before. Many times. Eddie had been complaining about it to him and Mike for years, and they knew exactly who loved to use it. Knowing what was coming, Eddie let out a groan. _Here it comes_. 

“Are you R-richie?” Bill asked tentatively, his eyes full of curiosity and hope. 

Richie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I am indeed. Richie’s the name and voices are my game,” He stuck his hand out for Bill to shake. Richie’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Have we met before, or are you just one of my fans?”

Bill had a grin plastered across his face, stretching from ear to ear. “I’m Eddie’s roommate. I’ve h-heard all about you,”

Richie turned to Eddie, looking down at him with a surprisingly soft smile on his face. Eddie had been expecting something smug or mocking, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was almost affectionate. “Does dear little Eds talk about me _that_ much?” Richie asked Bill, though his eyes never left Eddie’s face as he spoke. Eddie could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment as well as from the heat of the taller boy’s gaze. Richie had this strange look in his eyes that made Eddie’s stomach flip.

Before Bill had a chance to respond and embarrass Eddie further, Stan came back with his drink.

“Here,” Stan grumbled, more or less tossing the drink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie just smiled up at him brightly. “Does anyone else need anything?” Stan asked, his gaze lingering on Bill a bit longer than necessary. 

“Can I get a vodka soda?” Richie asked. 

As Stan went off to get Richie’s drink, the song playing in the bar caught Eddie’s attention. 

_Though nothing will keep us together_

_We can beat them, forever and ever_

_Oh, we can be heroes just for one day_

The faint words of David Bowie echoed all around him, engulfing his senses and filling his entire being with their strength and courage. For so long the timing hadn’t been right for him and Richie. No matter what they might have felt, it wasn’t possible for them to be together. Like the two people in the song, the world was keeping them apart. But it wasn’t just the world, it was also Eddie’s own insecurities. He was so terrified of being rejected by Richie that he prevented himself from really living his life. He locked himself up in the safety of his own imagination where the world, and Richie, couldn’t hurt him. But Eddie was sick of being controlled. By the world, by his mother, and by himself most of all. He wanted to be Superman. It didn’t matter if Richie was his kryptonite, because fear never stopped Superman from doing anything. And it wasn’t going to stop Eddie either. He wanted to be a hero, even if just for one day.

“Put it on my tab,” Eddie blurted as Stan returned with Richie’s drink. 

“Thought you said you didn’t owe me a drink?” Richie said, though the words came out sounding more like a question. 

Eddie met Richie’s eyes, and he gave him a nervous smile. _No turning back now_. “This is me trying to make up for not texting you,” It was the truth, sort of. Eddie truly did want to make up for that, but mostly he wanted to take a chance. Maybe it was the drinks in his system, maybe it was the powerful words of _Heroes_ , or maybe it was just Eddie finally finding his own strength. But whatever the reason, Eddie felt ready to put himself out there. Today was the first time that they had been on neutral ground. Richie wasn’t a student, and Eddie wasn’t his supervisor. Today, Richie was just a guy. Today, there was nothing stopping them.

“Well I’ll be, you do know how to treat a lady,” Richie’s dark eyes shone with unabashed delight, and he grinned down at the smaller boy. Eddie could feel his stomach flip-flopping, and for once it wasn’t because he was scared. It was because he was excited. It was because Richie made him feel things he had never thought possible. 

Before Richie, Eddie had only had small crushes here or there. Granted, he hadn’t come to terms with his sexuality before college, so he never truly let himself develop feelings for guys growing up, but even after accepting himself for who he was Eddie had never felt anything truly powerful. But then he met Richie, and everything changed. Suddenly, he was laughing every day and grinning even when he didn’t realize it. He had a permanent blush painted on his cheeks, and the image of a tall, curly haired boy in his mind at all times. His heart would pound like a jackhammer and his hands were slick with nerves. And truthfully, Eddie had never been happier. 

Growing up, he had read about love all the time, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of this all-encompassing, heart skips a beat, I-would-die-for-you passion that you could have for someone. He didn’t understand how one person could change your life—change you. It sounded made up. Like love belonged in books, not in life. To him, it seemed like some fantasy that authors created to give people joy. And for a long time, Eddie believed that. He believed that no one truly felt what was described in books. But then he met Richie. And while he might not have been at the all-encompassing, can’t-live-without-you stage yet, for the first time in his life Eddie could understand how it was possible to feel a love like that. Eddie finally accepted that, as great as imagination is, nothing compares to the real thing. And he did want the real thing. He wanted it with Richie.

“What, no snarky comeback?” Richie asked, nudging Eddie with his elbow and pulling him out of his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to Eddie. It felt like Richie was peering straight into his soul, and it made his heartbeat quicken. “Who are you and what have you done with my Eddie Spaghetti, you imposter?”

“He died,” Eddie retorted, “He couldn’t take you calling him such stupid names anymore and he spontaneously combusted,”

Richie suddenly dropped to his knees, looking up at the ceiling while shaking his fist in the air. “Why God, why?” He wailed. “How could you let this happen? How could you take my one true love from me like this?”

“For the love of God, Richie, get off the floor. We are in _public_ ,” Eddie hissed, eyes scanning the surrounding area to see if anyone was looking. Luckily, it was dark and everyone seemed too drunk to care anyways. Eddie never understood how Richie could do things like this. It was like nothing embarrassed him, no matter how stupid he was acting. But to be completely honest, Eddie was jealous. He wished he could live his life without worrying what other people thought of him. And, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t currently stifling back laughter.

“What’s the matter, Eds? I thought you’d like seeing me on my knees,”

“Just when I think you can’t get any more embarrassing you go and prove me wrong,” Stan said with a sigh. 

“I can’t believe this,” Richie declared as he got up off the ground, using his hands to wipe off his knees. “My soulmate dies and this is how you treat me? That’s just cruel,” He shook his head in disappointment. 

“The only soulmate you have is a trashcan, Trashmouth,” Stan retorted, a devious glint in his eye. Bill let out a giggle at his words, causing a small smile to tug at the corner of Stan’s lips.

“Quick, defend my honor imposter Eddie Spaghetti who’s actually nice to me,” Richie shouted, throwing his arms around Eddie. 

The close contact made heat coil in Eddie’s lower stomach. The scent of Richie’s cologne wafted all around him, and he was engulfed in the warmth radiating from Richie’s body. His hot breath tickled at Eddie’s ear. His senses were completely consumed by all things Richie, and he seemed to lose all sense of time and space. He let Richie cling to him a moment longer than necessary before coming back to reality and shoving him off. Richie smirked and winked at Eddie, causing a flush to rise in the smaller boy’s cheeks. He couldn’t tell if Richie was actually flirting with him or just joking around, but he desperately hoped that it was the former. Besides, it’s not like Richie was touching Stan, winking at him, and calling him his soulmate. He was just doing those things to Eddie. That had to mean something, right? 

“Y-yeah Eddie, defend your b-boyfriend’s honor,” Bill teased.

“I hate you both,” Eddie grumbled, fiddling with the straw in his glass. 

“No, you don’t,” Stan, Bill, and Richie all said in unison. 

Eddie was about to open his mouth and change the subject to Stan and Bill, in an attempt for payback, when a customer came up to ask Stan for a drink. 

“We s-should probably head back to our t-table,” Bill suggested. “Mike’s s-sitting there all alone,”

“Where’s Ben?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t know. He l-left to get a drink a while ago and n-never came back,”

Eddie snorted. “He probably came across a cute girl and forgot how to find his way back.” It was the most likely explanation. Ben always got so flustered around pretty girls that he completely forgot how to function. Eddie loved to make fun of him for it, though it’s not like he was much better. Only in Eddie’s case he turned into a little shit the second he came across a guy he liked. He didn’t know why he did it. It was like some sort of defense mechanism or something. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t help doing it. Especially around Richie. It was like the boy brought out the 7-year old in him that wanted to push him down at recess and pull on his pigtails. Fortunately for Eddie, Richie seemed to be the only guy out there that wasn’t put off by Eddie being a little asshole. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed it. And though he’d never willingly admit it, Eddie kind of appreciated that. He sighed, “I guess we had better go find Mike before he thinks we ditched him.”

Eddie turned to look at Richie, whose normally bright eyes seemed dim. Richie smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go,” He hesitated, chewing on his lower lip as if he was deciding whether or not to say something. Eddie’s heart was about to beat right out of his chest. _Is this it? Is he going to ask me out?_ Blood was thumping in Eddie’s ears, drowning out all of the surrounding noise of the bar. He looked up at Richie eagerly. Richie’s eyes met his briefly before flickering down to the ground. “I’ll see you around or something,” He finished lamely. 

At the sound of Richie’s words, Eddie deflated immediately. Every time it seemed like Richie might make a move, he didn’t. It was really messing with Eddie’s head. He could never tell if he was just reading things wrong or what. Richie was like the Da Vinci code, only harder to crack. 

“Yeah, see you around,” Eddie mumbled, turning to head back to their table. 

“It was n-nice meeting you, Richie,” Bill said with a smile before joining Eddie.

Halfway back to their table Eddie stopped dead in his tracks. No, he wasn’t just going to give up like this. He wasn’t going to let Richie just slip through his fingers again. Not this time. Fear was not going to keep preventing him from living his life. He was going to muster up all of his courage, and go after what he wanted. It didn’t matter that he was scared. It didn’t’ matter that Richie might turn him down. None of that mattered. He was Superman, god dammit. And right now, the only thing that mattered was Richie. 

Eddie whirled around and started marching back towards the bar, leaving Bill standing in confused silence. As he neared the bar and saw that god awful Hawaiian shirt and familiar dark curls, his heart beat began to quicken. But he kept walking. He walked right up to Richie who was leaning on the bar, his back to Eddie, and tapped him on the shoulder. Richie turned to face Eddie, his eyes widening in surprise, before a huge grin broke across his face. 

Eddie took a deep breath. “Do you want to come sit with us?”

_We can be heroes just for one day_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so there was supposed to be more to this chapter but it ended up getting so long that I had to break it into two parts. But I've already started on the second half so it should be out soon. 
> 
> And I know Eddie talks about how he's going to be brave and make a move only to end up hardly doing anything, but it feels like a lot to him okay? He's making progress I promise. In fact, he might get even braver in the next chapter ;)


	4. Whore in ranch dressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who says I’m innocent?” Eddie whispered, and he felt Richie shiver underneath him.

Two months ago, if you had told Eddie he’d be spending his Saturday night hanging out in a bar with Richie Tozier, he would have laughed in your face. Hell, you could’ve told him 2 hours ago and he wouldn’t have believed it. Yet here he was, sitting wedged in a booth with Mike, Bill, and one Richie Tozier.

Eddie wasn’t entirely certain how the conversation with Richie had gone following his invitation to sit with them, primarily because his brain had subsequently proceeded to implode. Eddie had sort of just started at Richie blankly, watching his lips move but not actually processing any of the words coming out of them. But one of the words must’ve been a yes, because by the time Eddie’s brain remembered how to function, he was halfway back to their table, a Hawaiian-shirt clad boy trailing eagerly behind. 

And now here he was, positioned in the cushioned seat of a booth right next to Richie, because of course he was. Mike and Bill never would’ve allowed any other seating arrangement. 

The booth was on the larger side, with both sides being able to squeeze in three people if necessary, and it had these gently worn black seats that your body sort of sunk into, the seat enveloping you with the faint scent of leather. 

The table was made of honey brown wood, with dark lines trailing up and down the length, circling and swirling around each other, forming intricate patterns. Eddie found himself absentmindedly tracing the lines, his fingertips lightly trailing along the uneven surface of the table. 

The wood looked weathered with age, with dents and scratches scattered here and there, but it in no way seemed shabby. The booth Eddie found himself seated in just had this relaxed feel to it. The whole bar did, honestly. It was this interesting cross between worn and cozy that made it feel homey; made it feel lived in. Like the wear and tear was the result of years of liveliness and memory making—not from negligence. 

Booths lined two of the walls, all nearly identical except for the lamps that hung above them; the design of each varying greatly. The one above Eddie hung suspended from an old metal chain, its deep red glass resembling an upside-down lily, swinging softly. Fiery light emanated from it, flickering across Mike and Bill’s faces like burning embers. Above another booth hung a lamp composed of three glass cylinders. The teal glass rested on a narrow metal rectangle, silver chain holding it up from both ends. As it gently rocked back and forth, teal light rolled across the table like waves in early morning light. 

Each lamp was so different, so unique, but it was their pointed individuality that made them similar—made them belong together. 

Despite the capacity of the booth to fit two people more than comfortably on each side, Eddie and Richie were pressed right up next to each other. Eddie had made the mistake of getting in the booth first, allowing Richie to plop right down in the middle of the seat, far closer to Eddie than necessary. They were so close together that Eddie found his arm lightly brushing against Richie’s every time he reached for his drink, which was a lot considering he was a bundle of nerves all wrapped up and tangled like a bowl of spaghetti. 

Dear god. Richie was rubbing off on him already.

Even though his arms were covered by the sleeves of his white button-up, Eddie’s skin lit ablaze every time his arm grazed Richie’s. The thin layer of cloth wasn’t enough to abate the electricity crackling between them. 

The bar was rather dim, with the only real lighting coming from the lamps glimmering softly over the tables. Eddie was rather grateful for the darkness. It provided him with a sense of security, knowing that his ever-present blush was masked by the red glow of the lamp above him. He was eternally grateful to Ben for choosing a booth with a red light—he was already in for a night of teasing and harassment, and really didn’t need the extra layer of humiliation that would certainly ensue if his cheeks announced every time he was flustered.

Bill and Mike sat on the opposite side of the booth, matching grins painted on their smug little faces. Eddie had left Bill alone for less than a minute when he’d invited Richie to join them, yet he’d apparently found the time to give Mike a recap of everything. At least that’s what Eddie assumed he’d done. But based on everything that’d happened since he and Richie had sat down, it was really the only conclusion.

For starters, Bill had been sitting on the other side of the booth earlier in the night, but had oh so conveniently moved to Mike’s side, forcing Eddie and Richie together. Eddie’d glared daggers when he noticed the new seating arrangement, but Bill had just smiled up at him innocently. Eddie may have been willing to dismiss the change as unintentional, but when he saw Mike and Bill share a smirk as Richie climbed in the booth, all doubt regarding their intentions was thrown out. After several not so subtle comments regarding Eddie’s status as single, it was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mike and Bill had gone into full matchmaker mode. 

Eddie prayed a swift death befell him. 

Fortunately, as time went on, the conversation drifted from _let’s see how uncomfortable we all can make Eddie_ to easy chatting. As it turned out, Richie got along great with Bill and Mike. His easygoing and goofy personality mixed well with Bill’s light-heartedness and Mike’s playful nature. And before long, Eddie found himself laughing along with them.

He was surprised by how much of an interest his friends had taken in Richie. He’d been prepared for the typical _where are you from, why’d you chose your major, are you single_ and all of the other questions that curious friends—and parents—ask, and while they did make sure to tick every one of them off, they also seemed genuinely interested in the answers, asking numerous follow-up questions that went beyond _just looking out for their best friend_. And even more surprising was the way Richie opened up to them. 

In the two years he’d known Richie, Eddie hadn’t actually learned much of substance about him. He knew that he’d grown up in Bangor, and that he had a sister two years younger than him. He knew stupid things like how Richie had once been attacked by an angry goose or that he threw up on his kitchen table after a milk drinking contest. But, all in all, he didn’t know anything that substantial. It wasn’t that Eddie hadn’t been interested, or that Richie hadn’t been willing to open up, but rather Eddie had been too afraid to ask. He had always felt so exposed with his emotions, and it made him hesitant to ask Richie anything personal. He was convinced that doing so would only expose him even further—that everyone would know why he was so interested in the answers.

But now, watching Richie eagerly answer question after question, Eddie knew he should’ve been getting to know him since the day they’d met. 

He wasn’t really sure what it was about Richie, maybe it was the way his eyes light up with each question, or the way his explanations kept spilling over into a thousand other anecdotes, but Eddie got the sense that Richie didn’t get asked these sorts of questions all that often. It was as if Richie were letting out years of personal experiences in one sitting, and that thought made Eddie’s heart ache. 

The more he learned about Richie, the more he couldn’t fathom how someone wouldn’t want to hear this. And even more so, he felt guilty for being one of the people who didn’t ask.

It was no secret that Richie was people-oriented, Eddie’d known that for years, but it wasn’t until now that he truly understood just how deep his need for attention went. Richie’s parents had been neglectful at best, never taking an interest in the actions of their children, good or bad, and it had instilled in Richie a need for social validation. He admitted that for a while he didn’t care what kind of attention he got so long as someone was focusing on him. As a result, he’d done just about anything for a laugh regardless of consequences, earning himself more than his fair share of detentions growing up. 

Apparently it wasn’t until halfway through high school that his best friend knocked some sense in him, telling him that if he wanted the world to notice him, it should be for something worth noticing. After that, Richie’d started doing everything he could to make something of himself. He’d always been intelligent, but it wasn’t until then that he actually started applying himself. 

Richie talked about how hard it was to keep going sometimes, without his parents there to push him. But he and his sister had always been close, and when she noticed him trying to turn his life around, she started doing everything she could to motivate him. Richie said she’s what made him realize he wanted to get into psychology. He wanted to be there for kids who were struggling, and wanted to help them understand that they weren’t to blame for their parents’ behavior. 

Eddie sat, smiling softly to himself as he watched his friends jabber away. They had moved on to discussing how they all knew each other, regaling the tales—fun, awful, and everything in between—of their time in the dorms, and Richie was eating it all up. 

“So wait,” Richie grinned, eyes bright and excited. He had both hands pressed onto the surface of the table, and he was leaning across it ever so slightly, as if Mike’s words had a magnetic pull that was drawing him in. “You mean to tell me that Eddie, this darling, innocent little bowl of spaghetti sitting next to me, bought an entire pizza just so he could cover his ex-boyfriend’s car with it? With _pizza_? Eds?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Well, no because there is no Eds here you ass-“

Bill threw a crumpled up napkin at Eddie’s face, effectively cutting him off. “Come o-on Eddie, don’t be shy about y-your masterpiece.” 

Eddie just rolled his eyes again.

“Yeah, Eddie. You should be proud. I mean, the way you literally wrapped a slice of pizza around the door handle was priceless.” Mike’s eyes twinkled teasingly as he revealed more details about _pizza-gate_ , as his friends lovingly called it.

Eddie glanced over at Richie whose face closely resembled that of a kid on Christmas. Clearly hanging on Mike’s every word, Richie propped his elbow up on the table so that he could rest his chin in his hand. The change of positon, however, meant Richie was now leaning into Eddie. He was so close that Eddie could smell the cigarettes on his shirt and the shampoo in his hair. _Strawberries_ , Eddie thought to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. His whole body buzzed and it took every ounce of Eddie’s strength to keep his thoughts from drifting towards Richie and to keep his mind focused on the conversation at hand.

He uncrossed his legs in an attempt to alleviate some of the heat building in his lower body, but his leg ended up bumping into Richie’s. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, it really shouldn’t have, but the second their legs connected Eddie felt lightning shoot throughout his entire body, leaving him tingling from head to toe. Richie must’ve noticed Eddie freeze at the slight contact, because he shifted back in his seat so that he wasn’t leaning into Eddie’s space so much. _Great, now he thinks I’m repulsed by him touching me. That’s fan-fucking-tastic_. 

Frustrated, Eddie reached for his drink and downed the last of it. He knew he shouldn’t be self-medicating with alcohol, but honestly he didn’t give a fuck at the moment. All he knew was that this whole situation would be a lot less nerve-wracking if he weren’t sober.

Bill, sensing the change in the air, broke the tension. “I don’t know, Mike, I think w-writing whore on his wind-s-shield in ranch was what made it iconic,”

Richie let out a cackle. “Holy fuck. This just keeps getting better.” He turned his head towards Eddie, an entranced smile on his face, and Eddie couldn’t help but grin back. After a second, or maybe a million years, Eddie wasn’t really sure, Richie nudged him with his shoulder. “You’ve got some fire in you, kid. More than I gave you credit for.” He held Eddie’s gaze for a moment longer, his warm brown eyes proceeding to flicker all across Eddie’s face. “I like it.”

Richie had said the last part in a low voice, too low for Mike or Bill to hear, and Eddie felt his stomach flip back and forth wildly. Richie turned his attention back to the other side of the booth so casually that for a moment Eddie thought he had hallucinated his words, but no, he was sure it had happened. Eddie wanted to devote the rest of his night to carefully dissecting the meaning behind those three little words, but wedged in a booth next to the guy you’re obsessing over isn’t really the ideal location for that. 

“Man, remind me never to cheat on Eds here,” Richie laughed almost breathlessly. “Kid has a frightening level of dedication to revenge.”

Bill and Mike exchanged a brief look at this, and Eddie knew he was going to have company analyzing Richie’s every word later that night.

“Yeah, Eddie may look small but he can fuck you up,” Mike laughed, eyes flickering over to Eddie briefly. He gave Eddie a warm smile and a wink. 

Suddenly a new voice echoed over the table. “Wow, I’m gone for like thirty minutes and you guys already replace me?” 

At the sound of the voice Eddie smiled and turned his head in the direction of it. He was met with the warm face of his friend, all sandy blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes. Ben was a stocky fellow, not in a chubby way but rather in a strong way. He was solid. Sturdy. Something that Eddie was decidedly not. He was dressed in a simple pair of dark jeans and a light blue t-shirt that did an excellent job bringing out his eyes, even in the dim light. 

Eddie was smiling to himself, thinking about how damn attractive all of his friends were, when a flicker of red caught his eye. 

He turned his attention to the source of the fiery embers and was met with the face of girl. She had been standing behind Ben, and when she stepped out from behind him Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. He was gay as hell, obviously, but she still took his breath away. The girl had the most beautiful piercing blue eyes Eddie had ever seen, in steep contrast with her soft facial features. Her skin was pale and wintry, adorned with hundreds of freckles. She was on the smaller side, definitely shorter and more petite than Eddie, but there was something about the way she carried herself that made her seem tall. And perhaps the most striking thing about her were the fiery red curls that perfectly framed her face. 

A smile broke across the girl’s face, and she waggled her fingers in greeting. She was about to open her mouth when a shriek erupted from next to Eddie. 

“BEVVIE!” Richie all but dove out of the booth and hurled himself at the girl, wrapping his lanky arms around her waist and hoisting her up. 

Letting out a giggle, the girl, Bevvie, smacked Richie on the arm. “Jesus Christ, Rich. Put me down before we get kicked out of here. It wouldn’t be the first time.” At that she gave him a quick wink, and Eddie felt his heart sink. 

Turning to Mike and Bill, Eddie’s eyes frantically searched theirs for answers but they looked as confused as he did. Who the hell was this girl? Richie had said he was single, but maybe he and this girl just weren’t to the “labels” stage yet. Or worse, what if she was an ex-girlfriend that he was still madly in love with. What if she wanted to get back together? His mind was so busy running through every disastrous possibility, that he almost didn’t notice Ben start talking. 

“Sorry I disappeared for so long,” Ben began, his hands resting on the edge of the table. Richie and this Bevvie were still standing behind him, and Ben’s eyes flickered back to meet hers before he continued. “But I got to talking to Beverly here and completely lost track of time. She said she’d lost her friend, so I invited her to join us. Though I’m going to take a wild guess and say that her friend is this person over here,” Ben laughed, gesturing at Richie. 

“That I am, good sir,” Richie responded in a passable British accent. He stepped forward and patted a strong hand on Ben’s shoulder. Sometimes Eddie forgot how tall Richie was, but seeing him tower a few inches over Ben, and practically a foot over Beverly, made it impossible to miss. “And who might you be, trying to win the favor of the lovely Miss Marsh?”

Before Ben had a chance to answer, Mike asked the question that was running through Eddie’s brain on an endless loop. “What’s going on?”

Richie let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Why isn’t it obvious? This dashing fellow here has come to steal away my darling wife. So now we have no choice but to fight to the death for her hand. EN GUARDE!” Richie howled, grabbing a knife off of the table and wielding it like a sword.

In the blink of an eye Beverly’s hand flew forward and yanked the fork from Richie. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh that was a mixture of endearment and exasperation. “Sorry about him, I’m pretty sure he was dropped on the head as a baby.”

Richie let out an offended huff and Beverly stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to the booth full of confused expressions. Eddie was still completely lost, his stomach churning wildly. It was obvious that she and Richie were close. _Really_ close. Their body language wasn’t necessarily indicative of a romantic relationship, but it definitely came across as more than friendly. There was also the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous. And Richie, as he’d admitted during Mike and Bill’s questioning, was bisexual. So it was well within the realm of possibility that they were _together_.

“It’s n-nice to meet you, Beverly. I’m B-Bill.” Bill stuck his hand out for Beverly to shake and she reached for it happily.

“Just Bev is fine, and it’s great to meet you too, Bill!” Her face radiated warmth as she spoke, and suddenly something in Eddie’s mind clicked. Bev. 

Eddie had heard that name countless times. _My friend Bev and I woke up on a merry-go-round this weekend. My friend Bev told me I need to stop wearing shoes with holes in them. My best friend Bev is a real wack-a-doodle_. 

Bev was Richie’s best friend—he’d been telling stories about her for years. At the realization, Eddie’s mind began to ease, only to have his anxiety come back and hit him full throttle not even two seconds later. Just because they were best friends didn’t mean Richie didn’t have feelings for her. For all he knew, she and Richie could have been dancing around their feelings for years, both too afraid to say something and affect their friendship, and would inevitably get together in some climactic way. Eddie knew the story quite well; it was a common plot line in his books, and he couldn’t deny that it was a personal favorite of his. Best friends turned lovers—who didn’t love that? 

Eddie wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to grab Richie by the collar of his idiotic shirt and demand to know his feelings for Bev. But mostly, he wanted to hate her. He wanted to, he really did, but for some strange reason he just couldn’t. There was just something about her—the way she exuded strength but also kindness, the way her eyes twinkled with unbridled warmth and sincerity—that made her impossible to hate. 

Seeming to accept Bev’s friendliness, and unaware of Eddie’s panic, Mike introduced himself next, reaching past Bill to shake Bev’s hand. Meanwhile Ben introduced himself to Richie. Eddie swallowed. Guess it was his turn. 

Even though he couldn’t bring himself to hate her, Eddie didn’t really want to shake Bev’s hand, so he opted for a slight wave instead. “I’m Eddie,” he nearly whispered, cringing internally as his voice came out softer than intended. 

At the sound of his name, Bev’s head whipped towards Richie, so fast Eddie was surprised she didn’t hurt herself. Her eyes seemed to bore holes in his head, and the two proceeded to have what looked like a conversation with nothing more than their eyes. A widened eye here, a furrowed brow there. Eddie had no idea what they were communicating, but Richie eventually averted his gaze, looking down at the ground and shaking his head with a faint smile. His black curls had fallen forward to cover his face, so Eddie couldn’t be certain, but he could’ve sworn he saw a blush on Richie’s cheeks. 

With a snort at Richie’s demeanor, Bev turned to Eddie. A grin bigger than the Cheshire cat’s spread across her face, and with ice-blue eyes twinkling, she reached her hand out for Eddie to shake. _So much for avoiding handshakes_. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Eddie.” She paused briefly, eyes flickering over to Richie’s still averted gaze before adding: “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I, uh—“ Eddie frowned, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?” With each passing second he could feel his heart beat pick up, threatening to jump out of his chest. 

“Well, you are the Eddie from the psych lab, right?” Bev asked, a devious glint in her eyes. “I mean, I can’t imagine Richie would know two people named Eddie. It’s not exactly a common name these days.”

Eddie could feel his cheeks burning at her words, and he allowed himself a brief glance at Richie. The boy was no longer staring at the ground but rather at Beverly, eyes burning with a great intensity. Bev, sensing his gaze, merely smirked back at him. 

“Oh, uh yeah, I am that Eddie,” he replied, hoping the delay in his response went by unnoticed. If the expressions on Mike, Bill, and Ben’s faces were any indication, it did not. Mike winked, Bill waggled his eyebrows, and Ben’s eyes flickered back and forth between Richie, Bev, and Eddie so quickly he was going to make himself dizzy. All of his friends knew about Eddie’s hopeless crush on Richie, and right now, it didn’t seem all that hopeless. 

"Beverly, I swear to god,” Richie hissed. A rosy blush painted on his cheeks. “I’m gonna—“

Bev cut him off. “You’re gonna what Rich? You know, you really shouldn’t pick battles you know you can’t win. After all, I have a lot of embarrassing stories about you that I could tell dear Eddie all about. Maybe he’d like to hear about Texas.”

“You’re a menace,” Richie groaned. He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head softly. When he looked down a few moments later, the brightness was back in his eyes and his whole demeanor had shifted. He clapped his hands together and changed the subject. “Well, as you all can clearly see, Bevvie here is my best friend, better half, partner in crime, whatever you wanna call it. The little devil’s been making my life hell for the past decade or so.” 

“Small world,” Mike mused, eyes glancing around the table. 

Eddie let out a sharp laugh. Small world was the understatement of the century. 

“I don’t know, Mikey,” Richie began. “I think there’s a higher power at hand here. I think it’s fate.” Eddie scoffed and Bill rolled his eyes, but the curly-haired boy continued. “I mean, God obviously saw seven ridiculously attractive people and thought to himself ‘Man, they’re so good looking that none of their friends will be able to handle their beauty. They’ll obviously have to be friends with each other.” 

“Seven?” Ben asked, an eyebrow raised and laughter dancing in the blue waters of his eyes. 

Richie smirked at Bill, whose brows furrowed in confusion. “The six of us plus Stanley the Manley, of course.”

Eddie covered his mouth, a small snicker escaping his lips as he watched the color drain from Bill’s face. He’d almost forgotten about that. 

“And who might this Stan be?” Mike asked, noticing Bill’s reaction. For a split second, so brief that Eddie almost missed it, a look of hurt crossed Mike’s face before quickly being replaced by curiosity. Years ago, when he and Eddie had first met Bill in the dorms, Mike had admitted to having a crush on Bill. At the time it had seemed like the feeling might be mutual, the two always sharing secret looks and finding reasons to touch each other. But nothing every amounted of it over time, so Eddie had just assumed that it was all in the past. But clearly the feelings were still there, and Eddie felt like a terrible friend for not noticing before. He had been so wrapped up in his own personal drama that he hadn’t even noticed the heartbreak that his oldest friend was dealing with. 

However, as Eddie was internally berating himself for being an absentee friend, something quite intriguing caught his eye. Guilt pooled in Bill’s eyes and he glanced at Mike sheepishly. _Well now that’s interesting_ , Eddie thought. Maybe the old feelings still weren’t so old after all. 

“He’s j-just the b-bartender.”

“ _Just_ the bartender?” Richie scoffed. “That’s no way to talk about your future husband.” It looked as if Richie were about to continue when Beverly elbowed him in the side, facing him with a serious look. She directed her gaze towards Mike and Bill, eyes darting back and forth meaningfully, attempting to clue Richie in without words. Richie’s eyes widened and he cringed, obviously having realized his error. 

Eddie had to admit, he was really starting to appreciate Bev. 

“Well Bevvie, you think we should say ‘fuck it’ and give the fates what they desire?” Richie joked, both Mike and Bill relaxing visibly at the change in subject. He stepped forward, a hand reaching out to rest on the back of the booth. The corner of his shirt rode up at the movement, the black material raising to reveal a pale swatch of skin. Eddie’s eyes got stuck there for a moment, and it took all of his strength to pull them away. When he looked up, his eyes were met with Richie’s warm brown ones, and the taller boy looked down at him smugly, having clearly noticed were Eddie’s gaze had been.

Eddie felt a flush spreading throughout his body for about the trillionth time that night, but this time he refused to look away. He wasn’t going to give Richie the satisfaction. Instead, he stared right back at Richie with an eyebrow raised challengingly, causing the other boy to shake his head in admiration.

“What do you say, Eds?” Richie inquired, leaning down so that his face was closer to Eddie’s level. “Think you got room for two lost souls in this here booth of yours?”

Too entranced by Richie’s close proximity to answer, Eddie merely nodded his head in response, drawing a snicker out of both Mike and Bill. Breaking eye contact with Richie, he scooted himself further over in the booth, his left arm pressed against the cool brick wall.

The booth was large, yes, but fitting three people to a side meant that they had to get close. _Really close_. Eddie was squished between the brick wall and Richie, so tightly that he could barely move his arms. On the other side of the booth Mike, Bill, and Ben were practically sitting on top of each other, with Ben still hanging slightly off the edge of the seat. Eddie couldn’t help but notice a brief look be shared between Mike and Bill, and he made a mental note to ask Mike about it later. 

Attempting to make a little more room, Richie lifted his arms to rest on the back of the booth, his fingers accidentally catching Eddie’s shirt and lifting it slightly in the process. The second his fingers grazed Eddie’s side, the smaller boy let out a gasp, having not expected the skin on skin contact. Four pairs of eyes shot over at the sound, and Richie’s cheeks flushed sheepishly as he yanked his arm away to rest behind Eddie. 

“So Richie,” Ben began, breaking the tension. “How did you and Bev meet?”

And just like that, the group fell into easy conversation. 

***

 

Time flew by as the six chittered away. They talked about everything under the sun, from their childhoods, to their careers, to their favorite movies. The talked, laughed, listened, and even argued—the Monsters Inc. vs. The Incredibles debate having been rekindled. 

Eddie smiled to himself as he looked around the table, amazed by how easily they all fell into rhythm. Maybe Richie was right, maybe it was fate. Seeing everyone together made Eddie happy, though feeling Richie pressed up against him made him feel the happiest. With Richie’s arms resting on the booth, and Eddie’s having returned to tracing the patterns on the table, there was no longer anything separating their sides. Eddie could feel every bit of Richie pressed against him—could feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. 

His entire body was tingling, but it wasn’t just because of their closeness. Despite being just as close to Bev, Richie had directed almost all of his attention to Eddie all night. Richie had participated in conversation, sure, even to the point of slamming his fist on the table during the the Monsters Inc. vs. The Incredibles debate, but more often than not Eddie had felt Richie’s eyes on his face and his warm arm pressed against the back of his head. At some point, Richie had actually moved his hand to Eddie’s hair, absentmindedly twirling his fingers in the soft brown curls and causing Eddie’s heart to stutter. His friends all noticed the intimate act one by one, each sending him knowing looks. 

As the night wore on, Eddie became more aware of Richie and Bev’s relationship. They had met during middle school, initially bonding over their similar interests and bold personalities, before eventually finding solace in each other during their difficult childhoods. The more he learned about Bev, the more Eddie grew to love her. She had been Richie’s rock for years, and had played an enormous role in helping him become the man he was today. It became clear to Eddie that their closeness was not the result of romance, but rather was borne in the wake of their harsh home-lives, having been a necessity when they were growing up. It was almost comical how much Eddie had originally wished Beverly didn’t exist, because as the night had grown on, she’d sort of become his hero. 

The group had been so immersed in conversation that they hadn’t heard last call be announced or noticed the bar begin to clear out until a familiar head of golden brown curls appeared at the end of their table. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to close,” Stan informed them, his eyes immediately finding Bill who gazed back at him dreamily. 

Eddie was about to send Mike a sympathetic look when he noticed Stan’s eyes land on something else. Something seated next to Bill. _Mike_.

Mike was an attractive guy, Eddie’d noticed that the first time they met as kids. In fact, Mike had actually been his first crush as a child, though that was long in the past. Mike had this beautiful dark brown skin and equally gorgeous brown eyes that were always warm and full of laughter, capable of comforting you in a second. As time went by, Mike had grown tall and strong, and his muscles had become well defined by football during high school, followed by a rigorous workout schedule that he’d been maintaining in recent years. For years, girls had been coming up to Eddie asking if his friend was single, and every time Eddie’d had to inform them that they weren’t exactly his type. Rather, boys were. But Stan was a boy, and Eddie couldn’t deny that Mike was staring back at him with equal interest. In fact, Mike, Bill and Stan all seemed to be staring at each other with the same lustful fervor.

 _This night just keeps getting more and more interesting_.

“NOOO!” Beverly suddenly cried out, drawing Bill, Mike, and Stan out of whatever moment they were having. Her eyes flickered over to Ben, and she smiled at him wistfully. “I’m not ready for this night to be over.”

“Well then let’s not end it,” Richie proposed. He turned his attention to Eddie, warm brown eyes looking down at him with hope. “Bev and I have an apartment only a couple blocks from here, why don’t you come over so we can continue this?” He held Eddie’s gaze for a moment longer before lifting his eyes to the rest of the table. “All of you.” 

“That’s a great idea, Rich,” Bev beamed. 

Stan started to turn around, discomfort etched in his features, when Eddie called out and stopped him. 

“You should join us too, Stan,” he suggested. “You’re off now, right?” There was no way he was going to let Stan slip through Mike and Bill’s fingers. They’d been playing matchmaker for Eddie for so long and now it was his turn. He was going to get these boys together if it was the last thing he ever did.

Stan, not as subtly as he probably thought he was being, sent Mike and Bill a nervous look before turning his attention to Eddie. “I have to finish cleaning and then lock up, but I’m off after that.” He paused, nervous eyes wandering around the table. “Though, I don’t want to interrupt.” 

“Nonsense,” Beverly responded, waving her hand dismissively. “We’d love to have you.” 

God, Eddie was really starting to love her. 

Mike grinned. “The more the merrier.” 

“Y-yeah,” Bill agreed shyly. 

Richie clapped his hands together. “Well that’s settles it. Off to grandmother Bev’s house we go.”

“Call me grandmother again and I’ll cut your dick off,” Bev sang as she hopped out of the booth, followed by Richie. Eddie felt a strange sense of loss with the removal of the warm contact. He’d gotten so comfortable with Richie’s side pressed against him, his hands in his hair, that he now felt cold and empty. 

Pressing one hand on the back of the booth and the other on the surface of the table, Eddie began to slide himself out of the seat, only to be stopped by Ben’s kind voice. 

“Do you want some help cleaning up, Stan?” Ben asked. He really was the sweetest guy on the planet. Beverly seemed to agree, because she looked over at him dreamily, her eyes distant as though lost in thought, and a soft smile on her face. 

Before Stan had a chance to respond, Bill spoke up. “M-mike and I can h-help you.” Bill glanced over at Mike briefly, checking to make sure he was okay with that, and was met with an eager nod. “We’d p-probably all get distracted and t-take forever if we all stayed,” he added sheepishly after Richie let out a knowing snort. 

“That’s a great idea,” Beverly beamed. “We can text you guys the address and meet you there. It’s only like a five-minute walk.” 

Eddie grinned at her appreciatively as he stood up, straightening out his pants which were rumpled from sitting for so long. The group made their goodbyes and headed towards the exit, leaving the three boys alone in the bar. Eddie couldn’t wait to interrogate his friends about the whole thing when they made it back home. 

He was so happy that he’d decided to check out Stan’s bar that night. Not that he would ever admit it, but a small part of Eddie wondered if maybe fate really were a thing. Cause if it were, he definitely had fate to thank for tonight. 

The air outside was slightly cool, a gentle summer breeze ruffling Eddie’s hair and caressing the drunken flush on his face. It was late—the sky pitch black and not a soul in sight. The only sounds were the soft padding of feet and crickets chirping off in the distance. Everything was still and silent, as if the whole world were asleep. 

Eddie could make out the faint murmur of conversation coming from Bev and Ben off in the distance, but they were walking far enough ahead of them that he couldn’t make out the words. Them being Eddie and Richie. Eddie. And Richie. Alone, at night, definitely not sober, and on completely neutral ground. And on top of that, Richie had been giving him signals all night. A flirty joke here, an unnecessary touch there—it all screamed of his interest. If anything were ever going to happen between them, tonight would be the night. Eddie’s body shivered in anticipation. 

For once in his life, Richie was completely silent. And even more surprisingly, Eddie didn’t mind it. He wasn’t worried that Richie had lost interest or that he was boring him. He felt at ease. The night was so beautiful and serene, untouched by the clamor of the world, and it was as if the two boys had an unspoken agreement to keep it that way. There was beauty in the silence. So they continued to walk side by side, hands occasionally bumping together, but never uttering a word—the only sound was that of their feet along the sidewalk and the chirp of the crickets. And truthfully, Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

***

 

Beverly hadn’t been kidding about the walk being five minutes. It had felt like they were there in the blink of an eye, but at the same time it felt like forever. Even though it had only been a few minutes, and they hadn’t uttered a word along the way, Eddie felt as though so much had been said. 

As they softly padded down the street, hands touching every so often, Eddie had felt the heat grow between them. The understanding. He didn’t doubt any longer that the attraction was mutual. It was practically tangible. At one point Eddie had felt eyes on him, and he looked over to find Richie watching him, face full of spellbound yearning. When Eddie caught him staring, Richie’d quickly shifted his gaze to the ground before looking nervously up at Eddie from under his eyelashes. The sight almost made Eddie laugh. Seeing Richie so uncharacteristically shy and bashful while he felt confident was surreal. It was as if their roles had been reversed. But Eddie couldn’t deny that he liked it. That he liked not worrying or being scared. Liked not doubting everything. But most importantly, he liked seeing the effect he was having on Richie. 

Their destination was an old brick apartment building, and Ben and Bev were waiting for them on the cement steps leading up to the entrance. Ben was leaning against a black metal railing that lined the steps, and Bev leaned against him, her side pressed softly into his. The two looked so lost in the moment—their moment, that Eddie felt a little guilty for interrupting. 

“Last stop, shithole apartment numero uno,” Richie announced, holding a hand up to his mouth like an intercom mic. “ _CSSSHK_. Ladies and gentlemen this is the end of the line. I repeat, this is the end of the line.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie laughed fondly as the four made their way through the entrance and up a flight of rickety stairs. 

The carpet lining the stairs looked like it hadn’t been replaced since the seventies, with a hideous brown and orange floral pattern accented by numerous unidentifiable stains. To Eddie the whole stairwell was honestly something out of a nightmare. It had an unsturdy railing that looked like it was about to topple over, as well as numerous bunched up portions of carpet just begging to be tripped over. But Eddie pushed down his horror and disgust and reminded himself what he was in here for. _Richie_.

At the top of the second flight of stairs, Richie reached into his front pocket and pulled out a single key. Why he didn’t have it on a keychain and how he had managed to not lose such a small key was a mystery to Eddie. 

A pale yellow light flickered above Eddie’s head as Richie struggled to unlock the door. “I know you had a few drinks, but are you really so drunk that you forgot how to open a door?” Eddie teased. 

Beverly let out and amused snort, and Richie turned his head to glare at both her and Eddie. “Hey, I’m not the one with the drunk flushed cheeks, Drunky-McDrunkbutt.” Richie laughed and turned back to the door as Eddie reached his hands up to his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from them. “This place is just a shithole as you can clearly see, so the door gets stuck sometimes.” 

“It’s true,” Bev admitted as Richie shouted “Aha!”, the door flinging wide open. 

“Ladies first,” Richie teased, bowing as he let Eddie through the doorway. 

The second he passed through the threshold, Eddie heard a gasp from behind him. 

“Eddie!” Beverly squealed. “What happened to your shirt?” 

Eddie threw his head back and moaned, remembering that he was still wearing his drink stained shirt. “Is it that bad?” 

He felt Beverly’s cool hand graze across his back. “Well, the stain’s a little big. And…a little pink.” 

“For the love of god, Richie,” Eddie hissed, turning to glare at the curly haired boy who was still standing near the door stifling a laugh. “What the hell were you drinking?” 

“Richie!” Beverly shrieked, throwing her small handbag at Richie’s stomach. He tried to catch the purse, fingers grasping at its soft black edges, before it fell to the ground. “You clumsy asshole,” Beverly muttered, laughing to herself as she bent down to retrieve the purse. “Go get Eddie a clean shirt, his is probably all sticky and uncomfortable.” 

A devious smirk formed on Richie’s face and Eddie dreaded the words to come as Richie shut the door and made his way into the apartment. “You sure he’s not sticky from me spilling something else on him?” 

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, starting to guess where this was going. “I swear to god if you utter one word about your cum I’m going to rip that moronic Hawaiian shirt off your body and strangle you with it.” 

“You want to rip my clothes off of me?” Richie gasped, holding a hand to his heart. “That’s so forward of you, Eds. And with Ben and Bev watching? Kinky.” 

“You’re disgusting,” Bev muttered, shoving Richie down a small hallway. “Go. Shirt. Now.” 

Eddie hesitated in his spot near the doorway, unsure if he should follow Ben and Bev into the living room or if he was supposed to go with Richie to get a shirt. 

He stood there, awkwardly lingering until Richie’s voice echoed from the hallway to his left. “You get lost, Spaghetti head?”

Shaking his head in annoyance at the name, Eddie made his way down the hall. The furthest door down was open, with light filtering out of it, and Eddie figured that must be Richie’s room. 

His heart beat began to quicken as he reached the doorway. How many times had he imagined being in Richie’s bedroom? Granted, they weren’t necessarily under these circumstances, but still. This is where Richie slept, got dressed, had _sex_. He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. If he kept thinking like this he would never make it through tonight. 

Walking through the doorway, Eddie was faced with exactly what he had expected. The room was a mess. Not like a filthy, dirty dishes everywhere type of mess, but more of a chaotic sort of mess. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, and even some on top of the dresser along the right wall and on the unmade bed opposite of it. A few band posters covered the walls, including a Bowie one Eddie noticed happily. To Eddie’s left there was an old wooden desk with a small keyboard and about a thousand crumpled up pieces of paper on it. Sitting on a chair next to the desk, was an acoustic guitar. Richie had mentioned wanting to be a musician growing up, and right now all Eddie could think about was what he must sound like when he sang and played that guitar. 

Eddie was still fantasizing about Richie playing the guitar when the other boy burst out of the closet, a gray shirt in hand. He crossed the room and tossed the shirt to Eddie. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” Richie apologized, mouth curved down in a guilty looking grimace. His eyes followed Eddie’s hands as he unfolded the gray shirt, reading the faded lettering. _The Cure_. 

Well that was the least surprising thing ever.

“It’s okay, Rich. It’s a white shirt so I can just bleach it,” Eddie assured him. He placed a reassuring hand on Richie’s arm. He really didn’t care about the shirt, and it was sweet seeing Richie admit he felt bad about it. It was moments like these where Eddie realized that Richie was a lot more sensitive than he let on. 

“Oh. Okay, um cool,” Richie stammered, eyes fixated on Eddie’s hand still resting on his arm. “I’ll just, uh, turn around so you can get changed.” He smiled sheepishly at the ground before turning to face the other direction. 

Eddie laughed. “How gentlemanly of you.” His fingers swiftly undid the buttons going down his shirt, pulling it off his body. The cool air of the apartment nipped at his exposed skin and he shivered. Though it may have been the sight of Richie’s broad shoulders that made him shiver. He couldn’t really be certain. 

“You know me, always the gentleman. Got to protect your innocence.” 

Eddie shoved his arms into the shirt, the soft material caressing his skin as he pulled it over his body. The shirt was huge on him, the hem reaching halfway down his thigh, but the thing he noticed the most was that it smelled like Richie. Eddie inhaled the scent, allowing it to envelope him. 

Taking in one last deep breath, Eddie walked towards Richie, standing so close behind him that he could feel the warmth radiating from Richie’s body. 

“You can turn around now,” Eddie breathed, smiling to himself when Richie’s eyes widened comically noticing how close Eddie was standing to him. 

Eddie, ever so slowly, reached his hands forward, resting them on the taller boy’s chest. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and Richie gulped visibly, but his gaze remained locked on Eddie. Staring back into the dark pools of Richie’s eyes, Eddie raised himself up onto his toes and brought his face closer, so close that their noses lightly brushed against each other. Eddie felt Richie’s breath on his face, still the scent of candy and cigarettes. 

Then, with a final leap of courage, Eddie pressed their lips together. 

The kiss didn’t last long, their lips only gently brushing together, but it was everything he had ever dreamed it would be. It was more. Electricity coursed through his veins and his head grew foggy, his only thought being _Richie Richie Richie_. 

Eddie felt Richie’s hand move softly to his hips as he deepened the kiss, and Eddie felt his lower body stir with anticipation. But now wasn’t the time. Two of his friends were waiting for them in the living room, three more on their way over. _Later_ , he told himself. _We have all the time in the world_. 

With all the strength in his body, Eddie managed to pull back, though he remained close enough that their noses were still lightly touching. 

“Who says I’m innocent?” Eddie whispered, and he felt Richie shiver underneath him. 

With that, Eddie dropped back down on his feet and turned around. His head felt foggy and his entire body tingled as he headed back towards to the living room, leaving Richie behind in dazed silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! This chapter wasn't supposed to be this long but there were so many backstory related things that I wanted to get into. But now that I have all that out of the way the next chapters will have a lot more action ;)


	5. Tasteful sideboob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So when’s the wedding going to be?” Bev asked with a raised eyebrow, eyes raking up and down Eddie and Richie’s tangled forms.

Eddie woke with a start. His eyes flickered open briefly before immediately slamming back shut. Sunlight was streaming in through the small cracks in the blinds, beams of light hitting him directly in the face. Of course. He really needed to talk to a leprechaun about some luck because his affinity for bad luck was beyond uncanny. 

With a low groan, Eddie reached an arm out, blindly feeling around for the glass of water he always kept on his bedside table at night. After flailing his arm around for an unnecessarily long amount of time, Eddie realized there was no glass of water. And the reason there was no glass of water was because there was no table. Now normally this sudden disappearance of furniture would have been rather disconcerting, but Eddie’s attention was drawn to something else. Something far more unexpected. 

There, pressed up against his back, was the tell-tale warmth of a body, and a pair of arms were wrapped around his torso, clinging to him like a body pillow. 

Eddie cracked his eyes open, allowing them to adjust to the blinding stream of light before opening all the way. Eyes roving around the room, Eddie came to the realization that he was most certainly not in his own bed. Rather, he was laying on some strange couch. There was a scuffed up coffee table only a few inches from his face, serving as a barrier between him and a small TV. Scattered all across the table, and a bit of the floor, were dozens of black playing cards. The cards had white writing on them that Eddie’s eyes were too tired to read. He reached a hand up to rub at his eyes, hating the way they burned from lack of sleep. 

As he removed his hands from his face, Eddie noticed something on the wrist of the arm wrapped around his mid-section. A watch. The fogginess in Eddie’s mind cleared in an instant and his entire body froze. _Richie_. The watch belonged to Richie. He’d seen him wearing it in the bookstore yesterday—god, was it really only yesterday? But if the watch was Richie’s then that meant the arms were Richie’s. Which meant the warm body curled around him was Richie. And so was the hardness pressed against his backside. 

All of the blood in his body seemed to be heading towards one place, and Eddie gulped visibly. He willed his body to stop, not trusting the combination of his bad luck and an unexpected boner, when a figure appeared at the end of the hallway. _For the love of god_. There was something seriously wrong with his luck.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, and Ben nearly jumped out of his skin, clearly having not noticed him on the couch. “Looks like you had a good night,” Eddie snickered, eyes flickering towards the door Ben had just come out of.

Ben’s cheeks glowed cherry red and he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Yeah,” he mumbled, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. Ben smiled down at the ground. “Bev is a pretty incredible person.” 

As if on cue, a mess of fiery red curls appeared behind Ben. Slowly, so as to not draw Ben’s attention, Beverly shut her bedroom door and crept forward. She glanced over at Eddie, raising a slender finger to her lips. Warning him to not give her away seemed a little pointless in Eddie’s opinion, seeing as she leapt forward not even two seconds later, pale arms wrapping around Ben’s waist. The sandy-haired boy let out a sharp gasp and his whole body flinched, eyes bugging out of his head. 

Beverly giggled, high and sweet, and she rested her chin on Ben’s shoulder. “Thought I heard someone talking about me.” 

“All good things, of course,” Ben grinned, turning his head slightly to meet Bev’s eyes. 

“That’s no fun,” Bev contradicted. She released her hold on Ben and pranced into the living room, plopping down on the arm of the loveseat near Eddie. Her eyebrows raised as she took in Eddie and Richie’s position. “Man, you guys are so tangled up that I can’t even tell where one of you ends and the other one starts.” 

“Ha. Ha.” Eddie muttered, voice devoid of all emotion. “You’re so funny.”

“I know,” Beverly sang. She raised an arm and waved Ben over, the boy having been lingering awkwardly in the hallway.

Ben made his way over to the loveseat, settling down next to Bev. She reached a hand over to rest on his head, her fingers absentmindedly running through his sandy blonde hair.

“I’m surprised you’re awake,” Bev commented, glancing over at Eddie. “You passed out while we were in the middle of a game of cards against humanity. Said you needed your full eight hours every night or else you’d be a ‘little ball of rage.’” She raised her hands in finger quotes as she spoke. “Though I’ve got to say, I’d like to see that.” 

Ben snickered. “Oh trust me, you don’t. Don’t let his size fool you, he’s terrifying when he’s cranky.” 

“Fair enough,” Bev laughed, shifting so that she was facing Eddie a little more. “You missed out on some pretty great rounds of cards against humanity, though. Richie was cracking up over a card that said ‘tasteful sideboob’ for a full 15 minutes. I have no idea how you slept through it.”

As Eddie was about to inform Bev of his ability to sleep through a hurricane, he was interrupted by movement behind him. Richie, still half-asleep, mumbled out a “shaddup Bevvie, people are sleepin’” before nuzzling his head between Eddie’s shoulder blades and tightening his hold on the smaller boy. Richie let out a soft sigh, and Eddie could feel the heat of his breath seep through the fabric of his shirt. Eddie’s eyes flickered down to the large hands at his waist, anchored together as if Richie were afraid he’d be blown away. Eddie felt his chest clench and tighten at the sweet sight, and a heat began pulsing there, before spreading throughout his entire body, warming him from head to toe. It felt like he was glowing. He tried to keep his face neutral, fearing the teasing words that would undoubtedly fall from Bev and Ben’s mouths if he didn’t, but his mouth betrayed him, the corners twitching up in a smile. 

“Aww,” Bev cooed, resting her head against Ben’s and placing her hands over her heart. “You two are too precious. I can’t handle it.” 

Ben grinned up at Bev before shifting his gaze over to Eddie. A moment or two passed without Ben saying anything, a smirk merely tugging at his lips, and Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So,” Ben finally began. “Can I be best man at the wedding?” 

Eddie flipped him off. 

“That’d be so perfect!” Bev squealed and Richie stirred at the sound, his shallow breaths pausing. He moved his face from where it was, buried between Eddie’s shoulder blades, and up to rest his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. Three pairs of eyes were locked on Richie’s lanky form, ascertaining if he was awake or not. The three sat in silence, practically holding their breaths, until Richie’s steady breathing resumed. With each exhale, the curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck were rustled, tickling his skin.

Confident that Richie had fallen back asleep, Bev shifted her position on the arm of the loveseat, turning her body to face Ben fully. She tossed her legs over his lap and Ben automatically moved his hands to rest on them, his fingertips softly caressing her skin. It was crazy how in synch they already were. They had met last night. _Last night_. Twelve hours ago they had no idea who the other was. Yet here they were, already acting like they had been together for years, their bodies moving in response to some strange gravitational pull.

“So as I was saying,” Bev began, her voice much softer than before. She was looking directly into Ben’s eyes as she spoke and Eddie couldn’t help but feel as if the conversation was only meant for the two of them. “I’ll obviously be Richie’s maid of honor. I mean, I’m basically the only reason he stays fed and alive so I would murder him if he chose anyone else.” A faint smirk appeared on Bev’s face and her eyes briefly flickered over to Richie’s sleeping form before she continued. “Anyways, if I’m Richie’s maid of honor and you’re Eddie’s best man then we’ll get to have slutty wedding sex in a coat closet or the back of the limo or something. It’s basically a law that the best man and maid of honor hook up, after all.” 

The apples of Ben’s cheeks burned a bright red and his gaze shifted down to where Bev’s legs rested in his lap. Despite the flush that now spread across his whole face, Eddie could see that he was smiling. After a moment—a moment in which Eddie felt very awkward and out of place—Ben smiled up at Bev shyly. “And we’d get to walk down the aisle together.” 

It was obvious that Bev completely melted at his words. The smirk on her lips had shifted into a dopey, love struck grin, and her blue eyes twinkled brighter than the ocean in the sun. Eddie was happy for them—ecstatic even—he really was, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealously as he watched Bev lean down and kiss Ben softly on the lips. Things had fallen together so easily for them. They met, they liked each other (and actually made it known), and now twelve hours later they were talking about the future and kissing like they had been for years. It just looked so easy. The opposite of him and Richie. 

But, as his attention was drawn to the warmth of Richie’s body, surrounding him and enveloping him with its comfort, Eddie realized he didn’t care. Sure, things with him and Richie were complicated, confusing, and frustrating, but they were also fun, and exciting, and so completely different from anything he had ever experienced with anyone else. And Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eddie was still lost in thought when he felt two pairs of eyes burning into him. He looked up and was met with the beaming grins of Bev and Ben, their giddiness uncontainable. 

“So when’s the wedding going to be?” Bev asked with a raised eyebrow, eyes raking up and down Eddie and Richie’s tangled forms.

“Well it never hurts to have a June wedding,” Ben suggested. “Though, that is a bit of a cliché.”

“Oh there’s no way these two could make it that long. They’re too obsessed with each other. They’ll probably be married with five kids by next month.”

Eddie could feel his entire body heating up and he honestly wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Maybe a little bit of both. “I am not _obsessed_ with Richie,” Eddie hissed, glaring at the two snickering idiots with his best _I may be small but I will literally murder you face_. 

If the smirk on Ben’s face was any indication, Eddie’s glare was not having the desired effect. “If you’re not obsessed with him then why are you cuddling like you’ll die if you let go of each other?”

Bev let out a giggle and Eddie felt annoyance bubbling up in his chest. Partly because he hated being teased but also partly because he knew they were right. And he hated that. 

However, even if they were right, Eddie refused to let them know that. “I’m not cuddling with him. I woke up like this and the only reason I haven’t moved is because I don’t want to wake him up.” 

“Sureeee,” Bev nodded sarcastically. She turned towards Ben and widened her eyes mock-innocently. “He doesn’t want to cuddle Richie,” Bev said slowly, as if she were explaining it to a four year-old. “He just doesn’t have any other choice.” 

Ben went along with Beverly’s antics, nodding sagely in response. 

“You know what? Fine. I was _trying_ to be a nice person, but oh well. Who cares. Guess I’ll just wake Richie up.” With that, Eddie reached down for the hands that were clasped together at his chest, and pulled them apart. Richie let out what sounded like a cross between a groggy moan and a whimper, and Eddie would be lying if he said his dick didn’t twitch in response. _Stupid Richie making me feel things when I’m trying to prove that I don’t feel things_. Eddie yanked his leg from where it was trapped between Richie’s, briefly marveling over how far they extended past his own legs, and hoisted himself up. 

In his hurry to prove a point, Eddie had stood up too quickly, and he started to wobble, black spots clouding his vision. He reached forwards, attempting to grab onto the arm of the couch, but ended up stumbling. His vision had gone completely black at that point, but as he felt himself tumble towards the ground, something firm grabbed onto his chest. 

As the darkness began to fade from his eyes, Eddie felt the firmness he assumed were hands shift, one to his bicep and the other to his lower back, guiding him down onto the couch. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, he found himself seated back on the couch, the armrest pressed against one side of his body, and Richie pressed against the other. With one hand the dark haired boy rubbed up and down Eddie’s back soothingly, and the other hand, having moved down to hold his at some point, gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

Richie’s dark brown eyes frantically raked across Eddie’s face, not a hint of sleepiness in them. “Are you okay?” 

Embarrassed, Eddie shifted his gaze downwards, eyes locked onto Richie’s hand in his. “I just stood up too quickly and got a head rush,” he mumbled, praying that Richie hadn’t heard his motivation for standing. 

Richie chuckled softly, his breath blowing across Eddie’s cheeks. “Man, a heart attack is much better at waking you up than caffeine.” Richie nudged Eddie with his shoulder and the smaller boy turned to roll his eyes at him. 

“Well I’d be happy to terrify you every morning if it meant you’d actually be a productive human being.”

Richie’s jaw dropped and his eyes sparkled with a teasing glimmer. “Eddie Spaghetti just said he wants to be here _every_ morning when I wake up.” He moved both hands up to Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him excitedly as he grinned over and Ben and Bev. “You guys heard it, right? Eds just proposed to me.” 

Bev giggled and wrapped her arms around Ben’s shoulders. “Told you they’d be married within a month.”

These two were the most overdramatic, over-the-top, absolutely ridiculous people Eddie had ever met. But if deep down he liked Richie’s dramatics, well, Eddie would never admit it.

“I most certainly was _not_ proposing to you, you freak.” 

“You want me to get freaky in bed? Sure thing, _fiancé_.” Richie waggled his eyebrows and Eddie groaned, shoving Richie away from him. The shove was only half-hearted though—he loved feeling Richie this close to him, feeling his chest move with every breath, feeling the electricity crackling between them. 

Eddie was about to shoot back a fiery retort when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Beverly had moved off of Ben’s lap and was beginning to stand. “As much fun as it is to listen to your guys’ flirty banter,” Bev began, straightening out the black skirt she had on, “Ben and I are going to go get breakfast.” 

“You’re getting breakfast without me?” Richie whined. He stuck his lip out in a childish pout. “I thought that was our thing.” 

“Yup. I don’t need you anymore. I’ve got Ben.” Bev grinned at Ben, now standing beside her, and reached out to take his hand. The smile that spread across Ben’s face in response melted Eddie’s heart, all annoyance immediately dissipating from his body. 

“Wow, one night and my wife has already replaced me?” The pout on Richie’s face quickly turned into a devious grin. “Benny boy must be quite the stud in the sack.” 

_That’s the boy I like. Always so mature_. Sometimes Eddie really questioned his taste in men. 

Bev raised an eyebrow before smirking at Richie. “Oh he is.” 

With that, Bev flounced out of the room in a breeze of red hair and vanilla perfume, pulling an eager Ben along with her. She slipped on a pair of black combat boots that were sitting near the front door, and grabbed her black handbag from off of the kitchen counter. She sent Richie a quick wink before shutting the door with a soft _bang_ , leaving the room in silence. 

Eddie glanced over at Richie nervously, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting. And they were all alone, which meant they could do anything. _Anything_. There would be no distractions, no interruptions, nothing. Eddie felt his heart beat pick up. 

Richie smiled down at Eddie softly, his thumb stroking Eddie’s hand. They stared at each other, two pairs of eyes lost in the dark brown expanses of the other. Time seemed to have lost all meaning as they sat there, not uttering a word, and drinking each other in.

“Fuck,” Richie hissed all of the sudden, effectively ending whatever moment they were having. He reached his hands up to rub at his eyes. “I slept in my contacts last night and now my eyes are fucking burning like crazy.” Eddie could hear the faint whine of discomfort in Richie’s voice and his heart lurched. His eyes must’ve hurt the moment he woke up, but Richie’d ignored them because he’d been too busy worrying about Eddie. 

“Why don’t you go take them out, and I can make some coffee,” Eddie offered. “I know you said that heart attack did a great job of waking you up, but I bet some coffee will still help.” 

“Aww how sweet,” Richie cooed as he stood, towering down over Eddie. He leaned down towards Eddie, so close that he could see the outline of Richie’s contacts and the redness of his eyes. But he could also see every single freckle that dusted his nose and cheeks, up close and in the daylight. He was beautiful. Absolutely, undeniably beautiful. Even early in the morning, after having drinks and getting nowhere near enough sleep, Richie could still take his breath away. “My fiancé is taking care of me.” Richie winked at Eddie, making his heart stop, just a little bit, before whirling around and heading towards the hallway. 

Once his heart restarted, and he remembered how to function as a human being, Eddie shouted “I’m not your fiancé,” in Richie’s direction, knowing that his response was more than a little late. 

Eddie made his way into the kitchen, eyes zoning in on a coffee maker sitting next to the sink. There was an open package of coffee filters sitting on the counter, because of course it was, Bev and Richie probably couldn’t care less about their kitchen being orderly. After filling the coffee maker up with water, Eddie realized, a little too late, that he should’ve asked Richie where the coffee was. He resorted to checking every cabinet, a little afraid Richie would walk in and think he was snooping. 

The organization of the cabinets really seemed to speak a lot of truth about Richie and Bev as individuals. For some odd reason there were things like spatulas and bowls in one cabinet, and plates, a cheese grater, and a single pot in another. One cabinet had nothing but coffee mugs, each one completely unique, some with intricate art designs on them and others with bad puns. The cabinets made absolutely no sense and were eclectic as hell, yet they still functioned. Things had their place even if those places were somewhat unconventional. Kind of like Richie. He may have a complete disregard for social norms, but that never prevented him from being a smart and successful person. He may not have done things the normal way, but he still got them done. In fact, not being bound by “the normal way” had actually allowed Richie to branch out and come up with things most people never would have thought of. 

A few minutes after Eddie had finally found the coffee, the pot now almost done brewing, Richie came sauntering into the kitchen. He had changed into yet another band t-shirt, this one saying _The Replacements_ , and he had his familiar pair of black glasses resting on his nose. He could feel Richie’s eyes on him, taking all of him in, as he did the same. Eddie allowed himself to gaze at Richie a moment longer before turning back to the coffee, his whole body tingling. 

Eddie reached into the mug cabinet and pulled out one that said _this is my pot addiction_ with the ‘o’ made out of a coffee pot. He shook his head at the terrible joke, suppressing a smile as he filled the cup with coffee. 

“Do you own any shirts that don’t have a band name on them?” Eddie asked as he handed Richie the mug. 

The taller boy laughed as he moved to grab a tub of sugar from out of the microwave. “Well I have my Hawaiian shirts. Y'know… the ones you want to rip off of my body?” Richie shot Eddie a playful wink as he proceeded to dump several spoon-fulls of sugar into his coffee. 

Eddie flipped Richie off in response. “Also why the fuck do you keep your sugar in the microwave? That makes literally no sense.” 

“Not everything in life makes sense, Spaghetti, my dear. Some things occur with no rhyme or reason.” 

Richie brought the mug up to his lips, steam pouring out of the top, before gently blowing on it. Eddie’s eyes couldn’t help but get stuck on the slight pucker of Richie’s lips and all he could think about was kissing him. But so much time had passed since last night, and he was terrified that things were different now. Rationally, he knew he was being ridiculous. Richie had eagerly kissed him back last night, and there was no reason why he wouldn’t want to again now. But regardless, Eddie couldn’t help but worry that Richie had just been caught up in the moment last night and that alcohol had played a role. He knew Richie hadn’t been drunk, but he’d still had enough that Eddie worried that the attraction to him had been the result of alcohol, not actual feelings. 

An awkward silence filled the room as Eddie had an internal meltdown. He was suddenly so worried that he had overstayed his welcome and that Richie was just waiting around for him to leave. But on the other hand, he was equally worried that if he left now he would never see Richie again. 

The silence stretched on, and Richie blew on his coffee far more than necessary, nervous eyes flickering up to meet Eddie’s every so often. The silence had gone on so long that Eddie had no idea what to say to break it. He was debating just grabbing his shoes and making a break for it, his dirty shirt in Richie’s room be damned, when Richie finally broke the silence. 

“Are you gonna pour yourself a cup?” Richie asked, gesturing towards the pot of coffee before moving to sit at the bar on the other side of the counter. 

Eddie could feel Richie’s eyes on him as he grabbed a small black mug with the molecular structure of caffeine on it. He grabbed the sugar out of the microwave, putting a small amount in his coffee like a normal human being. Unsure what to do with himself, Eddie lingered in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

Noticing his hesitation, Richie patted the seat of the barstool next to him. “You gonna stand there gawking at my pretty face all day or are you gonna join me?” 

Smiling down at his mug, Eddie made his way towards the stool. He plopped himself down and took a sip, eyes flickering over to the dark-haired boy who was doing the same. They grinned at each other through sips of coffee, and Eddie found all of his anxiety slowly drifting away. 

 

***

 

An hour and two failed omelets later, Eddie found himself scrubbing a bowl in Richie’s sink. They’d settled on cereal after they had wasted more than a few good eggs, Richie joking that they’d have to hire a personal chef after they got married since neither of them could cook.

“You know, Eds, I do own a dishwasher,” Richie laughed as he walked into the kitchen, finding Eddie washing out his bowl. 

“I know that, dumbass,” Eddie grumbled. “But you can’t just shove dirty plates and bowls in there. You have to clean off any pieces of food or else the dishwasher could break.” 

“Yeah, clean off any _food_. Not every bit of bacteria to ever come in contact with it,” Richie said as he snatched the bowl out of Eddie’s soapy hands, placing it in the dishwasher. “I’m pretty sure you cleaned this better than any machine ever could.” 

Richie turned the dishwasher on as Eddie dried his hands off, the two turning to face each other awkwardly when they were done. They’d already had coffee and breakfast, and Eddie’d already changed back into his stained shirt, despite Richie’s insisting that he should just keep the shirt he had on. Eddie no longer had any real reason to stick around. He tried to gauge Richie’s expression to see if he wanted him to go, but Richie’s eyes were plastered on the ground, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth to chew on. The taller boy was also drumming his fingers on the counter, and Eddie couldn’t tell if he was doing it absentmindedly or if it was a signal that he wanted Eddie to leave. The two boys both awkwardly hesitated for a moment longer before Eddie decided that he should probably play it safe and head out now. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

“Well, I guess I had better get going,” Eddie mumbled, avoiding any eye contact. He could hear the drumming of Richie’s fingers stop, but he still didn’t look up at him.

Eddie quickly moved into the living room to grab his keys and wallet from where they were sitting on the coffee table before making his way to the front door. He paused for a moment, his hand resting on the door knob, before he turned to face Richie. The raven-haired boy was still standing near the dishwasher, an undecipherable expression on his face. He stared at Eddie, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Eddie lingered for a second longer, desperately wishing that Richie would ask him to stay, before finally whispering a soft “bye” and yanking the door open. 

Arms hugging his sides, Eddie booked it towards the stairs. He’d had such an incredible night—and morning—and he’d just blown it. He should’ve said something. Anything. This was his chance to make things happen and he did nothing. 

Eddie had just made it to the stairs, ready to hurl his body down them so as to make a quick escape, when he heard a door fly open, slamming against a wall. He was going to dismiss the sound when he heard an all too familiar voice shout “WAIT!” 

Whirling his body around, Eddie found himself face to face with one Richie Tozier. The taller boy reached a lanky arm out, latching onto Eddie’s wrists. His eyes burned with desperation. 

The two boys stared at each other, hearts pounding a mile a minute, before Richie finally said, his voice hardly more than a whisper, “Don’t go.” 

Eddie could feel his heart hammering in his chest, ready to jump out of body, as Richie’s hands moved up to softly cup his cheeks. Richie’s thumb gently stroked at the smooth skin there, his eyes taking in every inch of Eddie’s face, before he finally leaned down and brought their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things might get a little NSFW in the next chapter ;) Just so you know.


	6. I'm just too damn irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seriously?” Bev chided, her teasing words echoing strangely as though she were speaking directly into the opening in the door. “You couldn’t even wait to get to the bedroom before getting naked?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Richie swiped his tongue across Eddie’s bottom lip and he parted them, allowing Richie to lick into his mouth eagerly. Eddie’s back was pressed up against a wall near the stairwell, lost in a mess of limbs and lips. He could feel Richie’s hands clasp onto his shoulders and then slide down the length of his torso. His hands finally settled on Eddie’s hips, thumbs pressing into the bones, massaging them. 

Richie moved his lips to Eddie’s neck, latching on to the sensitive skin and sucking. Chills erupted across Eddie’s body and he let out a soft gasp. 

“Fuck,” Richie breathed, pressing into Eddie even more. His lanky body enveloped him completely—arms, legs, lips—all tangled up in a mess of blazing skin. 

A soft pair of lips crashed into Eddie’s again and he moaned into the other boy’s mouth unabashedly. He couldn’t bring himself to care about propriety. About the fact that they were in public. Every bit of Eddie’s being was screaming _RichieRichieRichie_. It felt like his skin had lit aflame the instant Richie had touched him, the fire only burning hotter with each additional caress, threatening to consume him entirely. It was as if Eddie had lost all touch with reality—the only thing he had sense of being the way Richie’s lips felt on his, the way his hands felt on his skin. With each kiss Eddie drifted further and further. 

But none of that mattered. Richie was here. Richie was kissing him. Touching him—hands, hips, _everything_. And right now, that was the only thing that mattered to Eddie. Hell, it was the only piece of reality he had any hold on. 

Eddie’s hands delved into Richie’s hair, fingers gripping the soft curls and tugging. He could feel the way Richie shivered underneath him—hear the moan that escaped his lips. Blood rushed to Eddie’s lower body and he grew ever hotter, his body threatening to explode in a burst of fire and flame. 

“Maybe,” Eddie gasped, lips separating from Richie’s for only a moment before the taller boy latched onto them again. It took every ounce of strength he had to pull back slightly, and Richie let out a small whine in protest. “Maybe,” he started again as Richie’s mouth moved back to his neck, nipping and sucking, derailing Eddie’s train of thought. “Maybe we should move this back to your place,” he finally got out, his head a foggy mess of tongue and touch. 

Mouth still attached to Eddie’s neck, Richie froze. His head shot up, wild eyes flickering all across the smaller boy’s face, searching. Breaths left Eddie’s mouth in short, quick gasps as he stared back with equal fervor. Both their chests rose and fell with each heavy breath. Richie held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding his head vigorously, dark eyes locked on Eddie’s kiss-red lips. 

A large hand moved down to grasp Eddie’s as lustful eyes took every inch of him in with shameless desire. Reluctantly, Eddie tore his eyes away from Richie, pulling the dark haired boy in the direction of his apartment. 

Richie’s apartment was only a few yards away, but it felt like a mile to Eddie. Shaky breaths left his mouth, and his too tight pants protested each step he took. Thoughts of tearing Richie’s shirt from his body, running his hands all over him, tasting his bare skin, flooded Eddie’s mind. He was two seconds away from mauling Richie right there in the middle of the hallway. 

The door was still open, Richie having forgone shutting it in his haste, and Eddie all but dove into the apartment, yanking a hungry-eyed boy along with him. Richie slammed the door shut behind them, the loud echo resounding all throughout the room. In an instant, Eddie felt himself being shoved up against the door, dark curls and hot breath all over his face. 

Richie kissed him like he was starving. Kissed like he was a dying man in the desert and Eddie was a cool pool of water. He kissed him like his life depended on it.

Eddie’s hands shot up to the collar of Richie’s shirt, tugging on the soft fabric, pulling him closer. He couldn’t take it any longer. He wanted Richie. _Needed_ him. Their bodies were shoved up against each other, not an inch of space between them, and yet somehow it still wasn’t close enough. Determined hands grasped at the hem of Richie’s shirt, grazing across smooth skin as he tugged the material upwards. Realizing what Eddie was trying to do, Richie pulled back for a moment, long enough to discard the shirt before desperate lips smashed back into Eddie’s. 

The smaller boy’s hands raked up and down the expanse of Richie’s bare chest, reveling in the softness of his skin. Richie shivered in response, exhaling a soft moan into Eddie’s mouth. With flat palms pressed against Richie’s chest, Eddie pushed him backwards, guiding him towards the hall without ever separating their lips. 

The two boys stumbled a few times as they moved towards Richie’s room, their bodies refusing to break apart for even a second.

Richie kissed Eddie so deeply that it felt as if their mouths were being molded together, lips not separating until the two finally had to gasp for air. Eddie’s head was a foggy, fiery, feverish mess and he slammed Richie’s body against the wall of the hallway, lips attaching to the skin between Richie’s jaw and ear. The taller boy whined in response, shaky hands moving up to the buttons of Eddie’s shirt. He pulled back for a moment, dark eyes searching Eddie’s for approval. With a trembling breath Eddie nodded, and Richie’s fingers yanked his shirt apart, not wasting a single second. 

The cool air of the apartment caressed Eddie’s skin and he shivered, but then Richie pressed their chests together. Bare skin on bare skin. Once again, Eddie felt like he was on fire—the flames beginning where their chests touched and radiating outwards. 

With a nip at his swollen lips, Richie began pulling Eddie down the hall. As the two finally entered the room they paused, lips breaking apart. Eddie’s eyes flickered up towards Richie’s, taking in the way they burned with lust. Eddie shivered and his pants grew even tighter. 

“ _God_ ,” Richie breathed out, eyes raking all across Eddie’s face. His lips were red and swollen, his dark curls a wild mess. “You’re beautiful.” 

Richie said the last part so ardently, the hunger in his eyes giving way to awe, that Eddie’s heart stuttered. He couldn’t believe his ears. Richie was here. Kissing him, licking him—touching him. Shirtless and gorgeous. Ravenous. And yet here he was, gazing into Eddie’s eyes, breathless and awestruck, telling Eddie he was beautiful. It was too perfect to be real. Richie was too perfect to be real. 

Eddie surged forward, lips attacking Richie’s, trying to pour every emotion he was too scared to say into the kiss. He didn’t just like Richie. It was more than that. And that terrified him. But at the same time, it was the greatest thing he’d ever experienced in his life. 

Strong hands grasped at Eddie’s hips, and soft lips moved to his jaw. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as Richie’s lips began to move lower, wet kisses trailing across his chest and down his stomach, leaving behind searing marks in their wake. As Richie crouched down on his knees, gentle lips on the skin below Eddie’s belly button, he paused. Richie looked up at the smaller boy, eyes asking for approval as long fingers dipped slightly into the waistband of his jeans. Eddie nodded vigorously, and the fingers moved towards his zipper and pulled. Richie pulled down his jeans and briefs in one go, a gasp leaving Eddie’s lips as he bobbed freely, no longer trapped by the confines of tight material. 

Eddie’s breath stuttered as he felt Richie lean forward, his tongue flicking across the tip of Eddie’s head. Richie licked a long stripe up his length, eyes locked onto Eddie’s, before a hot, wet heat enveloped him. His entire body was shaking, tingling, ready to burst with sensation. It was all too much and at the same time, not enough. Richie bobbed his head up and down, dark curls bouncing with every movement. It felt so good—too good. Eddie couldn’t believe this was real. His head was beyond foggy at this point, the only thing he could focus on being the delicious sensation in his lower body. Richie swirled his tongue around Eddie’s head and the smaller boy let out a high moan. 

Richie’s mouth moved off of Eddie with a _pop_. “Holy fuck,” Richie breathed as he took Eddie in his hand, pumping up and down. “That noise was so hot.” 

Somewhere in the cloudy haze of his mind, amidst the screams of pleasure, Eddie heard what Richie said. “Shut up,” he stuttered out, struggling to form even that many words as Richie’s hand quickened its pace. 

The taller boy looked up at him with dark eyes, a devious smirk plastered across his lips. “Gladly,” he replied before taking Eddie in his mouth. 

“FUCK,” Eddie yelled, the sensation overwhelming. His mind shut down, his body now moving of its own accord. Hands moved down to the mess of dark curls atop Richie’s head, fingers grasping at them tightly. He squeezed, and Richie let out a muffled groan around him. 

Hot. Wet. Licking. Sucking. Eddie felt like he was going to explode. Heat was coiling in his lower stomach and Eddie knew he was close. With every last bit of strength and reason left in his body, he pulled Richie back. The taller boy looked up at him, brows furrowed and confusion etched across his face. 

Eddie blushed. “I didn’t want to come yet,” he mumbled shyly. 

The corner of Richie’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and he rose to his feet. Gently taking Eddie’s chin between his thumb and index finger, Richie leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. The gentle kiss quickly gave way to lustful ones, full of teeth and tongue. Every nerve ending in Eddie’s body felt like it was being light up, and he kissed Richie back with all the passion he had in him. 

These kisses were different from the ones before. They were messy and wild. Burning with intensity. Richie sucked at Eddie’s neck, licking and biting the sensitive skin raw and Eddie let out a moan so loud the entire building probably heard. 

“I need,” Eddie gasped. “I need you in me,” he managed to get out, his mind a jumbled mess as Richie continued his attack on Eddie’s neck. 

Richie shivered at his words, nipping Eddie’s skin one last time before taking a step back towards the bed, a wild-eyed Eddie being dragged along with him. They paused at the foot of the bed, Eddie’s small fingers finding their way to the belt holding up Richie’s jeans. Without hesitation, Eddie undid the clasp, hands moving to unbutton the jeans without delay. His fingers lingered on the tab of the zipper, eyes flickering up to Richie’s to make sure it was what the taller boy wanted. 

“Fuck, baby, you don’t have to ask at this point,” Richie assured him, and Eddie felt his stomach flip at the sound of the pet name. 

Richie’s eyes were burning darkly as he stared down at the other boy’s naked form, and Eddie began to pull down the zipper. He took his time, reveling in the way Richie’s hips twitched forward, practically begging Eddie to touch him. With a swift tug, he pulled down the jeans, followed by Richie’s boxers. Eddie’s eyes raked up and down Richie’s naked body as the other boy stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside. 

The two stared at each other for a moment longer, eyes taking in every bit of exposed skin, before Eddie surged forward, arms wrapping around Richie’s neck and mouth attaching to his lips. Their bodies were pressed together, not an inch of space between them, and Eddie’s skin tingled everywhere that they touched. 

Suddenly, Eddie felt a pair of hands on his sides, and Richie shoved him back on the bed in a way that was somehow both forceful and gentle. Richie stood there, eyes roving across Eddie’s naked body hungrily, before he dove onto the bed, attacking the other boy’s lips in a mess of teeth and tongue. 

Richie hovered over Eddie, hands raking up and down his body, wet lips leaving burning kisses all across his face, his jaw, his chest. Richie kissed every bit of exposed skin he could find, and Eddie’s heart pound wildly in his chest. 

“Lube?” Eddie gasped out as Richie planted kisses on his hipbones. He couldn’t take it any longer. He needed Richie. All of him. 

Richie’s eyes shot up, widening, before he shook his head like a cartoon character. “Right. Fuck,” he managed to stutter out before hopping up off of the bed, moving to open the drawer of his bedside table. 

The blinds in the room were shut, but there was still enough light coming in through the cracks that Eddie could see all of Richie, his eyes latched on the delicious curve of his ass. Having pulled out lube and a condom, Richie whirled around, catching Eddie’s lustful eyes locked on him. 

Richie smirked down at him. “Enjoying the view?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn’t suppress the smile that crept across his face. “Shut the fuck up and get over here and fuck me.” 

Richie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, and he scrambled towards the bed, discarding his glasses and stumbling a little on the way. The bed shifted under Richie’s weight as he hopped up, crawling on top of Eddie. In an instant, Richie’s lips were back on his and Eddie moaned into his mouth. He could come from kissing him alone. 

The sound of the cap popping open echoed throughout the room, and Eddie shivered in anticipation. Richie poured some lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it. Eddie let out an involuntary gasp as he felt a finger press against his hole, rubbing gentle circles around the tight muscle. If Eddie had been on fire before then he didn’t know what he was feeling now. His entire body shook with anticipation and pleasure, skin blazing, as Richie worked him open, adding finger after finger. 

Waves of pleasure racked through Eddie’s body, back arching as he felt Richie scissor his fingers. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Get in me already,” Eddie hissed as he grabbed the condom laying on the bed, tossing it at Richie’s chest. 

“So bossy,” Richie chuckled, putting the corner of the wrapper in his mouth and tearing it open. He leaned forward suddenly, pressing a light kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I like it,” he said, the grin in his voice unmistakable.

Eddie could feel his stomach flipping wildly as he watched Richie roll on the condom. He had waited for this for two years. Two fucking years. And now it was finally happening. 

With another soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, Richie moved on top of him, gently spreading his legs apart. Eddie felt Richie bump against his hole, before the tip of his dick pushed past the tight ring of muscle. He paused and Eddie whined impatiently, wriggling his body in an attempt to get Richie to push in further. Richie chuckled softly to himself before acquiescing, pressing himself in all the way at a grueling pace. When he bottomed out, Richie glanced up at Eddie, who nodded eagerly, giving the other boy permission to move. 

There was a delicious stretch and burn in Eddie’s lower body, and his breaths began to quicken as Richie picked up the pace, moving in and out in a way that made Eddie’s back arch and his toes curl. The taller boy’s curls were bouncing wildly and his eyes were plastered on Eddie’s face, watching him come undone. When Richie shifted his angle, pressing against Eddie’s prostate, the smaller boy let out a strangled noise that was a mix between a moan, a gasp, and a scream. 

Richie froze for a second, eyes widening hungrily in response, burning, before he sped up his pace even more, slamming into Eddie, drawing out more and more involuntary noises with each thrust. 

“ _God_ ,” Richie groaned. “Those noises. Are so. Hot,” he managed to get out between grunts. 

That familiar heat was building in Eddie’s lower body, and his back arched in pleasure as Richie slammed into his prostate again. “Fuck, Richie,” he practically screamed, the other boy moaning in response. “I’m close.” 

Richie hissed and surged forward, lips crashing into Eddie’s, covering him in messy kisses. No one had ever kissed Eddie like that. Not during the middle of sex. It was so intimate of an act that it made Eddie come completely undone, his entire body exploding in a burst of heat and sensation. His body shook with wave after wave of pleasure, back practically coming all the way off the bed. 

Moments after, Richie followed, hips stuttering and expletives spilling out of his mouth as he came. When his orgasm had finally stopped racking through his body, Richie slumped forward, chest pressed against Eddie’s. He pressed his faced into the crook of Eddie’s neck, hot breaths burning Eddie’s skin. 

They lay there, trying to catch their breath for who knows how long, before Richie pulled his face away from Eddie’s skin, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss. He pressed another kiss to Eddie’s lips, just a quick peck, before resting their foreheads together, hot, sweet breath blowing across Eddie’s face.

“So that just happened,” Richie marveled, breathless. 

Eddie giggled. “Yes, it did.”

 

***

 

An hour or so later, Eddie found himself laying in Richie’s bed, the other boy’s fingers gently trailing up and down his bare back. They had been laying there, legs intertwined underneath the sheets, wearing nothing but their underwear, and talking about anything and everything from the moment they had finished cleaning up. 

The whole situation was completely foreign to Eddie. He had never experienced anything like this before—laying around talking after sex. Not even with boyfriends. Sex had always ended with either going to bed or taking a shower to clean up, not talking. But this—this was completely new. And he liked it. Loved it. It felt so intimate, and that was not something Eddie felt very often. He was never one for getting personal, call it self-preservation or whatever, but here he was, baring his soul without reserve. And even more shocking, he didn’t feel awkward or exposed. He had been talking about some pretty personal stuff—like everything with his mother—but he felt completely safe. But maybe that was just the effect Richie had on him.

Currently, however, Richie was perched up on his knees beside Eddie, gawking down at him madly. His eyes were bugging out of his head. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Richie screeched. 

Eddie covered his ears. “Volume, Richie. Jesus.” 

“How can I focus on my volume when you just told me that Superman is your favorite superhero? _Superman_.” 

“Why is that so unfathomable? He has the most powers of anyone. He can do like literally anything.” 

Richie he shook his head slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. His face was the picture of mock disappointment. 

“But that’s the problem,” Richie explained. He twisted around so that he was seated next to Eddie on the bed, an arm wrapped loosely around the other boy’s shoulders. Eddie snuggled into his chest. “He has so many powers that every issue is about the crazy shit that happens. It’s so focused on all of the action that they never get around to giving him any personality. Don’t get me wrong, the stuff he does is fucking awesome, but it doesn’t matter if he has x-ray vision or can fly if he’s boring. Like take Deadpool, for example. Yeah, he’s got above average agility and fighting skills, but his only real super power is being able to heal. No super strength. No flying. No x-ray vision. Apart from healing, he has the same super powers as you and me. So since he can’t do crazy shit like Superman, they have to use his personality to keep you interested. And don’t even get me started on the fact that…” 

Eddie clamped a hand over Richie’s mouth, cutting him off. “Okay, I won’t get you started,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out before removing his hand. He knew better than to give Richie the opportunity to lick his palm. “And why doesn’t it surprise me that you like Deadpool?” He continued. This time Eddie was the one with his mouth pressed into a straight line, shaking his head in mock-disappointment. “He’s basically you in a red suit.” 

Richie’s jaw dropped and his hand flew to his chest, clutching at his heart. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” 

Eddie smirked. “But…he’s barely even a superhero.” 

“I take it back. You’re dead to me.” 

A loud bang erupted from the bedroom door and both Eddie and Richie jumped at the sound, their heads whirling in its direction.

The door cracked open slightly, just enough for a pale hand to fly through the slit, Eddie and Richie’s abandoned shirts landing on the floor in a heap. 

“Seriously?” Bev chided, her teasing words echoing strangely as though she were speaking directly into the opening in the door. “You couldn’t even wait to get to the bedroom before getting naked?” 

Eddie could make out a faint snort and muttering of “horny teenagers” as the door was pulled shut with a _click_. He stared at the door for a moment, eyes wide with horror, before burying his burning face in his hands, wanting to curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment. _God_ , he had acted like a horny teenager.

A snicker escaped Richie’s lips. “What can I say, I’m just too damn irresistible,” he hollered towards the door. “Eds couldn’t help himself. He just wanted my dick so badly. You should be grateful that he was able to hold out long enough to make it to the bedroom at all!”

Eddie let out a strangled shriek. “That’s a lie!” He screeched as he shoved the other boy away from him. Richie fell backwards, limbs flailing madly, but one his lanky arms managed to latch onto Eddie right before he toppled over the edge of the bed.

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie pulled the dark-haired moron back onto the bed. Richie grinned up at him goofily and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

Eddie couldn’t help but smile into his mouth.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Tozier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this chapter was basically just smut...sorry not sorry. Though there will definitely be much more drama in the next chapter. Just so you know :) Also, I'm sorry if the stuff about superheroes is inaccurate. I haven't actually read any comics (which is something I hope to change) so I was just basing it off of things people have told me. I was also just trying to write what I thought Richie might say, so sorry if I offended any Superman fans out there!


End file.
